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radio-writes · 1 month

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What is Left of Me Without You?

Synopsis: Your husband didn't love you, not yet at least—that's what he told you. First, he wanted to see just how much you loved him.

Warnings: dubcon, smut, oral - m receiving, sex, abusive relationship, heavy manipulation, gaslighting, some misogyny, angst

Tags: married, one sided romantic love, Alastor x Reader, female!reader, reader is somewhere on the ace spectrum too

MDNI

To everyone in your town, you and your husband were the picture perfect couple.

Alastor, the bright, charming, down-right intoxicating radio host, walking down the street with you, his absolute darling of a wife on his arm.

Smiling, giggling, sharing hushed whispers. It looked as if the two of you were lost in your own lovely little world.

Even behind closed doors, Alastor proved himself to be the perfect gentleman. You never wanted for anything, never grieved, never felt lonely.

If you so much as glanced at something by a storefront, Alastor would have it tied with a bow at the foot of your bed.

If anything caused you grief, or even inconvenienced you the slightest bit, Alastor would have dealt with it by the end of the day.

If you ever felt lonely, well...

You supposed you didn't really have the right to feel lonely. Alastor was always there, wasn't he?

You woke up to the sound of your husband's humming. His smooth voice glided over each note skillfully as you peeled your eyes open.

The sight before you wasn't anything new: the other half of the bed empty and already fixed up.

You turned to sit up, and found Alastor in front of your vanity as he straightened his bowtie. He caught your eye through the reflection, and his smile broadened.

The greater half of New Orleans would probably kill to be in your place right now. Seated in a lavish bedroom, your famous, dapper husband walking to your side of the bed to place a kiss on your hand.

"Well good morning, darling! Don't you look adorable in this state." His sweet words greeted you.

It was there again, that odd feeling that sunk in your gut. What was that?

"Good morning, my dear." You greeted him back, ignoring whatever it was. A tired smile graced your lips as you peered up at him. "Headed to work already?" You asked him.

"Why, of course! Who else would wake up New Orleans and tell all those sleepy bones to shake a leg and hop to work?" He struck a pose, hand on his chest. "Only yours truly, of course!"

His warm chestnut eyes met yours through the lenses of his glasses. You let out a tired, soft laugh as you glanced away to hide the heat that rose to your cheeks.

You adored this man—every single bit of him—so you found it hard not to get flustered over him, even after all this time. Hell, you were still counting your lucky stars that he chose to marry you of all people.

Why? Well, you tried not to ask yourself that.

He'd already given you his answer, hadn't he?

Alastor placed a chaste kiss to your cheek, quickly pulling you out of your thoughts before they could spiral. You looked back at your husband as he said something about having to run off or risk being late.

You remained sat in your bed, smiling and watching with hearts in your eyes as your darling husband waved on his way out of your room.

"Looking forward to what you'll cook up this evening, sweetheart!" Alastor grinned, right before the door shut behind him.

And it was there again.

The gnawing feeling was coming by more and more frequently now. What was it?

Was it actually loneliness? But that would be so silly, wouldn't it?

Your husband didn't love you, but he trusted you. And that should be enough for now.

At least, that's what he said when he proposed.

You and Alastor knew each other for a very long time, and basically all of New Orleans knew you took a very strong liking to him.

Alastor had raised the proposition back then. You remember how he had explained that it would be a good thing for both your sakes. How you'd get to be with someone you loved oh so much, and how convenient it would be for him to finally get marriage out of the way. And even more so with a cherished friend like you!

Sure, you hesitated back then; unsure if you really wanted to marry a man who didn't love you the way you did him. But he sung you praises, he sung you promises.

You were darling, you were beautiful, you were smart, you were kind. How could he not grow to love you in your marriage? How could he resist falling for a such a doll who was offering him her heart?

So you said yes.

Because you loved Alastor with every bit of your heart, but he simply just wasn't ready to love you back yet.

And he was such a lovely man who never failed to shower you with affection. Maybe you were just asking for too much—fretting over such small things—for you to feel upset about waking up without your husband beside you.

And—and he was a radio host, after all. Of course he had to get to work early.

You really didn't need to spare it another second of thought.

No, what you really needed to focus on was how you could help your dear, hardworking husband.

You shook your head and slapped your hands softly against your cheeks. You've got to knock that annoying feeling loose. It was all so pointless.

With a more determined look, you got up from the bed. You neatly fixed the sheets and pillows, taking extra care to make sure every single wrinkle was smoothened out.

You silently ran over the list of tasks you had to do today.

Obviously there's cleaning and making sure the house was in order. It would be a real shame if Alastor came home to an untidy space. He's already out working late for both of you, the least you could do was make sure he had a clean home to rest in.

You ought to make time to drop by the market for some fresh meat to cook up. Alastor would surely be famished after work, right? And your mama always did say that the quickest way to a man's heart was through his stomach.

You could also drop by the tailors and get the hem of one of your Alastor's dress shirts straightened out. He hasn't said anything about it, but he's avoided using that particular one for a while now. You knew the uneven stitches had to be bugging him.

Oh, you really needed to pass by a locksmith, too. That dang lock on the basement door still had not budged no matter what Alastor did, and you just could not find the key anywhere.

You've been waving the issue off for a while now—Alastor was right in saying there's no real rush to it, nothing really important down there, anyway—but it'd be nice to have the extra storage available to you again.

You let out a huffed breath and placed your hands on your waist. You held your head high and ready. "Right. Let's get this show started."

It was a busy day, as it always was for you. The hours ticked by as quickly as loose sand through an open palm.

You didn't have time to feel lonely, not when you were too busy scrubbing with all your might against a particularly stubborn grease stain on your sink.

When the house was finally all neat, you got yourself ready to head out. Hair done, just a touch of make up, and a rather modest dress—at least as modest as Alastor had bought you. That man did lean towards the more finer tastes.

You felt it was a bit much just to do a few errands, but you were the sweet wife of a local personality. You had an image to uphold. You had to make sure you didn't do anything to tarnish your darling husband's reputation.

This was just part of the whole package, you supposed. Nothing that can be done about it.

Heading out into the afternoon sun, you painted on a bright smile for all the kind people that greeted you. Cheery, happy, friendly. Oh, but not too friendly.

Meek, quiet, all prim and proper. The makings of a fine lady worthy of her spot by the dapper radio host's side.

You dropped your husband's shirt off by the tailors first. They seemed to be more than happy to rush your request once you let slip who it belonged to. They promised they could have it ready in just a few hours. You thanked them softly, and noted how they were such jolly workers, laughing even as you left the store.

You dropped by the locksmith before the market, not really wanting to carry out a bunch of raw meat as you went about your day.

The nicely dressed man was a bit—difficult to talk to. He seemed to think you had no idea what a door even was. He had just started explaining how you open a doorknob when you felt your cheeks start to strain from how hard you worked to maintain a smile.

"Oh dear me, would you look at the time," You politely cut him off, pretending to be shocked at how late into the day it was. "I am so sorry, sir, but my husband should be coming home any minute now and I haven't even started on dinner!"

A lie. Alastor always came home late.

The man raised a brow at you in disbelief. Not that he didn't buy your act, but more judgmental that a woman would be so careless as to forget to take care of her spouse.

You ignore the look he gave you, keeping your shy smile on. "Maybe you could just sell me the tools. I could get my husband to work on it."

"Sure thing, sweetheart," The man shrugged. "I'll get what you need in a split, so you can run back and make a quick stew at the very least."

He ended up selling you the tools, along with a bunch of other needless things, with the assurance that your husband would definitely need them all.

You bit your tongue as you smiled and thanked him.

Why on earth would you need a box of nails and a bottle of glue to split a lock open?

But you really did not have it in you to stand in that shop any longer.

Besides, how would it look if the papers caught whiff of Alastor's sweet little wife yelling and lecturing a local shop keeper.

You couldn't burden your husband like that.

You hurriedly rushed to the market before they could close, buying the best cut of meat they still had at this hour, before you made your way back to the tailors to check on the progress.

The workers snickered as you entered, but you really didn't think much of it until they pulled out the dress shirt you dropped off.

A large, nasty stain of lord-knows-what sat right at the center of what used to be its pristine white color.

Your smile strained badly. "Oh dear, what on earth happened?" You asked with feigned worry. You already knew what happened.

"Afraid we spilled a bit of lunch on it, sweetie." One of the ladies explained, her companions giggling behind her. "Couldn't be avoided, unfortunately."

You felt your eye twitch.

"I'm sure a lovely doll like you could find a way to fix it. Wouldn't want that hotty husband of yours to leave your pretty face for something like this, would ya?" She went on.

"You better run, though. I heard the cleaners were planning on closing up early today." Another bitch woman spoke up.

Had you been any less horrified at your husband's ruined shirt, you would have been fuming.

You quickly took the shirt and paid, rushing out before you did anything stupid. Like cry.

Oh Alastor's rivals would have a field day twisting a story like that.

As you left the ladies called out "We did straighten the hem, darling!" And a more snarky, muttered comment, "Although, you'd think someone as handsome as Alastor could find a gal that could do something that simple herself."

The walk back home was probably the most tiring part of it all. Having to keep your back straight, your smile lovely, your voice friendly. Never letting the kind people know anything was wrong.

Because you knew those kind people were all itching to have any reason to gossip about your husband.

And you just couldn't have that.

Your shoulders finally sagged as you closed the door to your house. Your smile dropped immediately as you leaned against the door in exhaustion.

You stuffed the ruined shirt in your bag, thinking maybe your can throw it out later on, but you just knew Alastor would notice it was missing. He won't be happy with you, that's for sure.

Never mind that you've bent over backwards for the better half of a year to cater to him. Never mind that you've hidden all your faults under the rug. Never mind that you've been absolutely devoted to him even before your marriage.

You had to be perfect.

But you weren't. And you knew that. It seemed every other woman in New Orleans knew that. And now with the ruined shirt, Alastor would know that too.

He'll see you as less.

It's there again, that's stupid heavy feeling in your gut. Whatever it was.

You sighed in defeat. If you couldn't get the shirt fixed, maybe you could at least make sure he had a good meal to come home to? Maybe that could make him overlook your faults this time.

You burnt it. Somehow,—despite normally being an amazing cook every other time besides tonight—you managed to burn dinner.

You put your hands over your face, groaning in frustration, just absolutely exasperated. Why on earth was everything going wrong today. Why couldn't you just do one thing right? Why couldn't you just be of some help to Alastor? Why—

You lifted your face from your hands, attempting to slow your breathing. Your eyes glanced around your ruined kitchen and your burnt dinner, and that stupid shirt peaking out of your bag, and...the door to the basement?

Right! Maybe there could still be one thing you could do right today.

You wiped your hands over your apron, immediately scrambling for the tools you bought earlier today.

While you weren't the smartest when it came to these things, surely you could figure something out to try to loosen the lock.

You've watched your gentle husband fiddle around with the lock many times before, never opting to break the thing. You suspected he didn't want to look in any way violent in front of you, but you always thought it was so needlessly complicated.

You grabbed a hammer from the pile of junk and made your way towards the basement door. You tested the lock's strength with a few, rather light, taps of the hammer head. It didn't feel that sturdy. You thought you could definitely break it with a bit of force on your end.

You gripped the handle with both hands and brought the hammer down on it.

Once. The sound of metals clashing echoed in your house

Twice. You had to do at least this today.

Thrice. You can't be useless to him.

You smashed the hammer down onto the lock one more time and the battered thing fell to floor.

Your eyes widened, lips spreading into grin out of relief.

Thank heavens, you managed something today. Alastor would be glad to hear this, at least.

You bent over, picking up the fallen lock from the floor.

A weight pressed against you from behind.

Startled out of your wit, you stood up straight, just in time for whoever it was to flatten your body right against the basement door.

"What a lovely sight that was." You hear Alastor's voice right by your ear.

His head found home where your shoulder and head met. His nose trailed up against your skin as he breathed you in.

A gasp escaped your parted lips as you feel his hands squeeze the flesh of your hips harshly.

"Alastor?" You were partly dazed, confused what was happening.

His hips pressed against yours at the sound of his name from your mouth, and you all but recoil.

Alastor was rarely handsy, and that was fine by you. You actually realized that you much preferred it that way. Alastor's love being the only thing you ever really wanted from him.

Moments like these have always caught you off guard.

Because your husband knew that. He knew you weren't comfortable with being intimate. He knew you'd much rather have him just sit by you. He knew you weren't one to jump his bones.

And Alastor normally respected that.

"What a naughty little doll you are," Alastor's breath hot against your skin. "Welcoming a man home all bent over, presenting yourself." He whispered.

Your eyes widened, attempting to turn to face him, but his body kept yours pinned to the door.

"Baby, no. I," Your breathing had gone a bit ragged. "I was just picking up this lock here."

You raised your hand, showing the broken, battered lock in your grip. "I finally managed to open the stubborn thing." You tried to smile up at him over your shoulder, expecting praise.

Alastor's eyes stayed on the lock for a second too long you think, before his hand circled your wrist and yanked your arm behind your back. His swift hands made your other arm follow after it immediately.

The ache in your limbs, the grip he had on you, the shock of it all made the lock tumble right out of your grasp.

Alastor let out a hum of disappointment. "That's a real shame, sweetheart. I thought you were finally opening up to me." He said, his voice still filled with mirth. "Could have really used it tonight, too."

You felt him ground his hips against your clothed ass. His half hard cock evident against you.

He used one hand to keep your arms where they were, the other made its way to caress up your torso. His large palm trailing past your breasts, ending up by your soft cheeks.

Contrasting with the ones that held you still, his fingers were gentle against your face. His fingertips barely ghosted over your skin.

"I had a rather rough day at work, you see. Could you blame a man for wanting a little comfort from his wife?" He whispered.

The words hung in the air. Your lips unable to deny him, but unable to agree all the same.

A heartbeat passes, and suddenly you were free. Alastor stepped back from you, your body relaxing at the absence of his towering figure.

"But what kind of ruffian would I be to force a lady to do that against her will," Alastor said, his tone rather carefree.

You turned around to finally face him, only to see him looking else where.

Your eyes followed his line of sight and you noticed the ruined shirt, pulled out of the bag, sitting right next to a burnt dinner, all framed by a horribly messy kitchen.

Alastor looked back at you, his charming smile ever present. "I'm sure you excel at all the other aspects of being a wife, anyway." He says, as if he hadn't just seen the failure you've made of your day.

He began to walk away, and your hand reached out before you could even think. Almost as if on reflex. Almost as if it's what you had to do.

You meekly pulled him back. His eyes watched you, almost expectantly, as you cupped your palms against his cheeks, and invited him down to meet you.

Your lips brushed chastely against his as he let out a satisfied hum.

You pulled away just enough to speak, your eyes looking up at him as your breaths mixed. "What...what can I do for you, my love?"

Alastor's smile stretched, his lips dipping down to meet yours again for a second time. His hand quickly found its way to the small of your back, heavy as he ushered you out of the kitchen.

"I think that's better discussed in the bedroom, darling." He purred against your ear.

You swallowed thickly against your tightening throat.

Normally Alastor's hands on you were cherished, but you wanted nothing more than to squirm away from his hold right then. You knew where this was heading, but it just was not something you ever found appealing.

But you could do it for Alastor, right? You have done it for him before, anyway.

Even if you didn't particularly enjoy it, at least you'd be satisfying your husband. At least you'd be close to him. At least you'd be useful to him.

Alastor, like the chivalrous gentleman he is, opened the door of your bedroom for you as he lead you in. You heard the click of the lock behind you, right before you were quickly tossed onto your bed.

You squealed as your felt your body bounce against the soft sheets. Your dress bunched up your thighs as you adjusted your legs.

Alastor stood at the foot of your bed, working his bowtie off with nimble fingers. "Darling, why so tense? It's only me." He says, his voice almost soothing.

But it was there again. That annoying feeling. It seems heavier than ever.

Was it really loneliness?

How could you even be lonely now, when the man you love was waiting to mount you.

"I'm just nervous, that's all, darling," You managed to say honestly. "It hurt quite a bit last time."

Your eyes watched closely as Alastor's hand made quick work of the buttons in his vest, shrugging it off and placing his knee on the bed. His eyes trained on your reactions all the while, enjoying the flicker of uncertainty on your face as you bit your lip.

"I know a way we can ease that," He said. He reached out his hand to you, inviting you to take it.

Your shaky hand didn't hesitate. Because you'd do anything for this man.

You loved Alastor, so much, with your whole body, but he seemed to revel a bit too much in that knowledge.

He knew you could never deny him. So when your hand was in his, he pulled you closer, watching with delight as you awkwardly crawled to the end of your bed.

"Care for a box lunch, darling? It'd hurt less if we're a lot more slick." Alastor teased, chuckling as you looked at him with confusion.

The gears seemed to click in your head when one of his hand rested on your hair, the other worked his belt off.

"Oh," Was pretty much all you managed to squeak out. It was definitely not what you expected.

You hadn't noticed that you tried to pull away until Alastor applied a bit more pressure on your scalp to keep you still.

He pulled his heavy cock free from its confines. He ran his hand over it, lazily pumping the hardening member in his palm as his gaze was transfixed on you.

Your wide eyes watched every movement of his hand. Panicked, you seemed. Not unlike many panicked does he's shot down in the past.

Not unlike many panicked other things he's felt lose life under his hands.

"Something wrong?" Alastor mused, head tilting as he watched you flinch at the sight of his dick twitching.

Your eyes finally pulled away from your husband's groin, looking up to meet the man's lidded gaze behind his glasses. "We haven't really tried that before and," You bit your lip, unsure on how to proceed. "It just seems a bit deviant."

"Well then it's lucky we're both in such safe company then, isn't it?" The hand in your hair loosened it's grip, opting to softly comb through your hair. The slight tension in your shoulders melted away. "I've been rather curious about what all fuss was about, didn't really have a partner I trusted enough before to try, though."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. He saw how bad you messed up today, didn't he? He saw how miserably you failed at the simplest of tasks. But he still trusted you? He still trusted you enough to do something as unorthodox as this?

"I suppose I've been rather curious about it myself." You smiled up at him nervously, your hand reached out by your own choice to hold his hefty cock in your palm.

You were lying.

He knew you were lying and he loved it.

"Then open up, my dear." You heard him say, gently guiding your head closer to his crotch.

You decided looking up at your husband was easier than watching your own hand pleasure his shaft. You kept his gaze as you parted your lips, letting your soft tongue meet the skin of his head before wrapping your lips around it.

There was a rather salty taste in your mouth, a bit of his precum leaking onto your tongue. You tried not to cringe at the taste, choosing instead to focus on the way Alastor's brows furrowed when you took more of him into your warm, obedient mouth.

"How do I taste, darling?" He teased, knowing you couldn't answer.

He looked down at you expectantly. Not knowing what else you could do, you began to slowly bob your head, keeping your lips wrapped around his shaft.

You took your time, slowly letting more of him past your lips each time you sank your head back down. Eyes trained on your husband's face, part of you wondering if he'd praise you if you did a well enough job. But it seemed your efforts offered far too little friction for Alastor's patience.

His hips started moving against your face. Softly at first, but he soon began to push at your head to meet his thrusts.

The head of his hard cock nudged your throat and you choked. Your hands immediately went to his hips, nails digging in with how hard you held onto him.

Tears forms in your eyes as you looked up at your husband, and your heart immediately filled with panic when you were met with a look of disappointment.

"Hmm. Seems this might have been too much for you to handle." He sighed, finally pulling you off his dick.

A string of saliva stayed between the head of his cock and your lips as you coughed and gasped for air.

But even as your jaw throbbed, you went to reach your hand out and tried to lean back in towards his dick. "No, no. I can do it, I promise," You said hurriedly.

"There's no need to force yourself, my darling wife," Alastor tutted, pushing you back by your shoulder, stopping you from getting another chance to prove yourself. "We can't help that you have your limits."

"I just need practice." You swore, looking up at your husband. You hated that you disappointed him again.

His fingers reach out to tilt your chin up, making space for his lips at your neck as he slowly pushed you back into the bed with his own body.

"If you ask nicely enough, I'm sure we can have you try again another time," Alastor said softly, as if granting you such a troublesome request.

The back of your head softly met your pillows as Alastor nudged your legs apart with his knee.

He slotted himself between your legs, grinding his slick cock impatiently against your panties. His groan was practically breathed into your ear.

You wanted to hear more of it. While you weren't particularly eager for sex, you were starved for your husband's praises. And if this is what it took then so be it.

You bucked your hips up to remove your underwear, your groin meeting his lazy thrusts as you did.

"And here I was beginning to think you didn't want me." Alastor jested as he parted from your neck to help you rid yourself of your underwear. His long fingers slid the flimsy thing down one leg and let it stay on the other.

"There probably isn't a woman in this apple that doesn't want you, my love." You half-joked, but your soft laugh abruptly ended in a gasp.

Alastor pressed the thick head of his cock at your entrance, teasingly pushing in just the smallest bit. "You're most likely right," He said, watching as your eyes closed at his trespass. "But you are the only one lucky enough to have me."

And you should know it.

Your back arched as your husband pushed past the tight hole of your entrance. What little resistance your walls made barely bothered him as his throbbing head forced your walls apart.

His hands dug into the sheets by your body. The smooth covers wrinkling in his grip as he strained to stay still.

"This alright for you, darling?" He asked, running his thumb softly under your eye to coax you into looking at him.

Your heart fluttered. Even when in such carnal need he cared about your silly little wants. You pry your eyes open to see Alastor peering down at you with a smile.

"I could stay with this much if you need me to." He told you, rocking hips barely moving. The head of his cock nearly slipping out before he pushed back in, just until it disappeared again into your warm walls.

He was being so kind and accommodating, you couldn't bring yourself to be so needlessly selfish.

Your cunt strained to take even just his very tip, but it was so pointless to let something like that get in the way. Your petty little apprehensions shouldn't matter. Not when you're with your husband.

Your lips strained to force a smile. "I think I can take more, my dear."

It was all Alastor really needed to hear. he dragged his dick out of you, letting it slip out. Wanting you to feel how empty you were without him. Before he rammed his hips against yours; sheathing his cock fully in your warm cunt.

"What a gal," Alastor praised. "Loving, kind, and gentle, but takes a cock like she's on the clock in a call house."

Alastor loved the way you keened at his words.

He loved the way you yearned for his touch, even when you both knew it wasn't your game.

He loved the way you worshiped him, always so desperate to please him.

Oh, how he loved how you were always so ready to give him everything.

Alastor loved you, but just not in the way you hoped.

When you woke up the next morning, the view in front of you wasn't anything new.

Alastor's half of the bed was empty. The previously rumpled sheets for the previous night's rendezvous were pristine and smoothened out once more.

It was there again. Whatever that feeling was.

You assumed it's going to be here for a while.

Alastor seemed to have already headed out before you awoke, not that it felt any different from other mornings.

With a sigh you made your bed. Once again going over everything you had to do for the day.

You had to clean—because you always had to clean—but more so now knowing you left quite the mess yesterday. You have to stop by the market once more, maybe look through clothing stores to find a new shirt for Alastor.

You didn't want him upset with you over that after all. While he didn't bring it up, you knew it still likely bothered him.

You made your way to the kitchen, ready to get the day started.

Except something glimmered as you walked by it. Your head turned to its direction, seeing the same padlock you broke the night before in perfect condition—back on the door to the basement.

Your brows furrowed as you approached it. Fingers gingerly examining the cold metal.

But, how could it be back on here? You swore you broke this stubborn thing last night.

From the corner of your eye, you see a note on the counter, immediately recognizing Alastor's messy handwriting.

Yes, of course. He must have replaced the old one and fixed whatever damaged you did on the door while you were asleep. That would easily explain it.

You picked up the note, smiling softly to yourself at how silly it was to be confused.

It was a brilliant bash, my darling, but it seems this lock is just much too sturdy :(

Don't fret! I'll find a way to open it eventually! Do try to stay away from the tools though, dear. We wouldn't want you hurting your soft delicate hands!

Yours, Alastor

P.S.

I'd prefer a little less char on the meat this time! Haha!

You tried to reread the note several times, wondering if your husband was pulling your leg again.

You broke this lock, you knew you did.

You swung a hammer at it thrice and it broke.

Thrice? Or was it four times?

Whatever, the count didn't matter.

Or did it?

You remained where you stood, confused at what to believe. The note still clutched in your hands.

Did you really break the lock last night? Or were you just so desperate to get something right that your fooled yourself into thinking that?

If you broke the lock then why was it still there now? Why would your darling husband tell you otherwise?

The only reasonable conclusion was that you didn't.

Surely, that made sense, right?

Your eyes stared at the note. Alastor's name seemingly bright against everything else.

No other possibility made sense. Besides, if Alastor trusted you enough to marry you, it only made sense to return that privilege.

Right.

Your eyes lifted from the note, to the kitchen in front of you. The mess you made still loud and present and ugly.

There was no use standing there fretting over such a silly, pointless, thing. Not when you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Who really cares about a dumb little lock, anyway? Didn't you have such a long list of tasks to do today?

Like proving your worth

To yourself

To the world

To your husband.

Part 1 of 2 I hadn't intended for this fic to run as long as it did, and the best part was yet to come. It would have taken ages to get this out if I didn't cut it into half. Anyway, Read part 2 of 2 here!

#tw: dubcon #tw: manipulation #tw: gaslighting #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #vien writes #I googled 30s dirty talk and I just could not use any of them with a straight face so I made my own renditions to make them more palatable #do not come for my ass for the wrong use of old timey linggo in this one please #don't come for me for my slow writing either

821 notes · View notes

toji-girl · 2 months

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wicked intentions | s. gojo x s. geto

synopsis: Bored of your conservative town you're glad that a sex shop pops up, but little do you know that two men who run it are perverts who want to take you to bed but little do they know what they're about to experience.

wc: 8.3k

tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + fem reader + not beta read + repost from my old blog + use of multiple sex toys + mmf threesome + pussy eating + blow job + facial + consensual and nonconsensual filming + cum eating/play + fingering + double penetration + anal you receiving + impact play + teasing + you're shorter than them + they talk you through your orgasm + collar/lease usage + both Gojo and Geto are slimy and perverts and manipulate you + dirty talking + creampie + bondage + squirting + pet names such as good girl and princess + Geto x Gojo + any missing tags lmk!

Smoke hung in the air like a heavy musky perfume clinging to the white ceiling catching your attention before you looked around the old building converted into something you never thought you’d see in this town; a sex shop.

Everyone talked about it, the idea of one in a town like this wasn’t sure to do good with sales, but you wanted to see it, curiosity won the battle as you spotted the two men working the counter.

They were deep in a conversation when you stepped further in, you could hear their low mumbling as you glanced at the array of dick-shaped objects.

The main theme seemed to be things you could suck ironically enough, lollipops, straws, and other things that were phallic shaped and all sorts of bachelor and bachelorette games with various items.

You walked over to the movie section and glanced at them, you couldn’t help it really given the nature of your job as a sex worker. It was only solo videos you posted on OnlyFan videos and pictures.

Warmth flooded through your veins looking at the covers, women and men getting fucked or sucked off or eaten out, blood pumped hot pulses throughout your body, and you inhaled smelling the soft scent of vanilla mixed with something heavier.

“We have a sale, buy one get one free!” A light chipper voice called out from behind. You turned and looked at the workers.

One, tall and lanky with white hair and eyes, you were sure the most beautiful blue ever. And white eyelashes that complimented his eye color, your eyes averted to the man next to him, the complete opposite. Long black hair with dark eyes to match.

You smiled and walked over to the counter which housed all sorts of things for smoking, and other small sex items. “Sounds good, it looks good here.” You murmured with a genuine smile happy to see something new in town.

The white-haired man smirked and drummed his long slender fingers against the counter. “Thank you, anything that catches your eye?” He asked, locking his gaze with yours with a smirk.

You nodded and pointed to the rack of dildos behind you. “A few of them, I’m so happy to see a new shop especially one that caters to this in such a conservative city.” You voiced your appreciation with a little sultry touch, seeing men like them is also a rare sighting here.

Both men smirked now glancing at each other and sharing some sort of silent conversation. “It was a bitch to get it set up, these folks need to use one or two toys.” You giggled and looked at the white-haired man, his eyes undressing you practically along with the other one.

“My name is Satoru, I’m the owner and this is my trusty employee and best friend, Suguru.”

You gave them your name with a shy smile, usually, you barely paid any man attention due to them mostly being close to twenty years older or more than you, you noted they both oozed with charm and something sinister swimming under their gaze.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty girl,” Suguru spoke up eyeing you.

Another fit of giggles erupted from your pink glossy lips. “Thank you, you two are the most handsome men that have graced this town along with a sex store.”

It was Suguru who spoke again, his lips curled into a smile as well. “So it’s like a two-in-one package.” He murmured.

You leaned forward giving them a good view of your tits with a matching smile. “I’ve always wondered how two would fit into one.” You teased looking down at the small pipe that resembled a pair of lips painted a deep red.

Satrou’s own lips split almost as he stared at you, no one really has come in besides the few dudes wanting a fleshlight because as they put it their wives never wanted to put out, and now here, these two have a sweet little thing in front of them.

“Very easily with just a little bit of lubrication and coaxing, you could do it,” Suguru purred putting his elbows on the glass leaning forward to catch a whiff of your strawberry perfume, the sweet smell made his mouth water almost. Moving here proved to seem a good idea.

A gush of slickness coated your panties as you gazed into Suguru’s eyes laying your hand over his with a smile so sweet that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to taste your mouth or pussy first, his cock throbbed behind the counter. “You’re right, if I need any help I’ll let you know.”

Before Satoru could add anything else the door rang, and an older gentleman walked in with his hands stuffed in his pockets. You stepped away with a wink and headed back to the wall of dildos scanning the plastic for a larger toy, which happened to be a dark pink filled with glitter.

His words echoed in your head ‘a little bit of lubrication and coaxing, you could do it.’ You grabbed it and headed over to the lube section finding a lube quickly before turning back to the counter to see the older man walking out.

“What if I gave you both a shoutout on my page about your new store?” You asked in a soft tone setting the items on the counter, again they shared a silent conversation and nodded as Suguru rang up your things and bagged them.

Satoru slid your card back into your palm running his slender fingers over your flesh leaving behind a trail of hot desire that crackled like a fireplace. “We’d love that, let me make a counteroffer,” This time they both leaned into your personal space with wicked smirks.

More times than not you were not this bold, but something about the men gave you a boost of confidence you held onto for dear life even though you let people see your naked body this was different, almost more intimate.

“You let us watch your little video and we’ll give you half off today,” Satoru murmured reaching his hand and swiped his thumb over your bottom lip collecting the pink glittery gloss that you smeared earlier.

Your heart thumped fast in your chest watching him with a smirk. “You got a deal, and maybe soon you both will show me just how well I can coax two into one hole.” You scooped up the bag and walked out of the shop with a smile and ruined panties.

Both men looked at the username you wrote down on the receipt and they knew that they were going to be in for a show.

Later that evening you sat on your bed dressed in the new lingerie that came in the mail earlier in the morning, however, this time felt a bit different knowing that Satoru and Suguru could join anytime and you’d have no idea, their nickname could be anything really.

You scanned the new toy you laid out along with the lube bottle and wondered how it would feel for them to stretch you out instead of the silicone dildo, your brain fizzled out almost at the thought of being sandwiched between them.

Satrou’s blue eyes reminded you of the crystal clear waters that lapped over each other on a hidden away beach, and Suguru’s reminded you of melted dark chocolate, you swore you could almost taste the salt from the water and the aroma from the food.

You sighed heavily and flopped on your bed playing with the frilly edge of your one piece glancing at the camera working up the nerves to start the live, usually, you’d like to record and edit then post but tonight would be a special treat.

Once you were in the middle of your bed surrounded by pastel shades of pink and purple you kneeled next to the toys and turned the camera on pointing it at your face, per the requests from your subscribers, they loved you in soft colors and see-through outfits.

Comments started to roll in the moment everyone was alerted you were online, you cupped your tits and settled down letting your heels rest on your ass. “Hello everyone, sorry it’s been a whole week since I uploaded anything so I wanted to give a little treat, and I’m here to give a shoutout to the two very sexy men who helped me out today.”

On the other side of the screen, Satoru and Suguru sat on their couch tuned into your live stream. “Holy shit, next time she comes in I have an idea,” Suguru murmured, his eyes fixated on the screen watching you rip open the thick plastic.

Little did he or Satoru know that you were actually prepping yourself for them because you planned to invite them over and give them a show that neither will ever forget when you gained more confidence to do so, you gasped when you held the toy in your hand looking at the camera.

They both watched with throbbing cocks as you quickly got up to wash it off before setting back down with an open mouth you swirled your tongue around the head before pushing more of it into your mouth staring at the red dot. “Do you think she swallows or spits?” Satoru asked.

“Swallow for sure, but I’d love to see my load on that pretty face of hers,” Suguru replied with a smirk grabbing the laptop and placing it on his knees as he leaned back letting his friend get a better view as well, this time you were deep throating it with your eyes closed.

You gagged a little bit before removing the toy holding it as you popped the top of the lube and squirted some on the tip before smearing the substance up and down the shaft as you sat up on your knees placing the toy between your legs.

They watched as you slowly slid the head inside you, your mouth dropped open at the feeling of something thick trying to stretch you out. “I’ve always wanted to try double penetration, two cocks splitting me wide open and the cum dribbling out sounds so hot.”

Satoru and Suguru exchanged a look and a smirk before they turned back to the computer watching you drop down more on the toy, your hands gripping a bunny plushie with a pink bow on one ear, your face screwed up in pleasure as you let out a high pitched whine.

Finally, the dildo bottomed out leaving you stuffed full as you rocked back and forth a few times getting used to the sensation of it, everyone could hear the wet suctioning as you fucked the toy faster moaning like a porn star, your eyes fluttered shut thinking about the two men.

Satoru would be on the bottom and Suguru would be behind you as they worked their cocks in and out of your pussy taking turns before both of them slowly would bottom out, you whined thinking about it triggering your orgasm and leaving a creamy ring around the toy’s shaft.

You opened your eyes and read the comments that poured in, some wishing you would have done more foreplay but none of them stuck out to you. “I’m sorry it was fast-paced and had no foreplay, I was super wet to begin with, I have those two on my mind. See you soon.”

Satoru focused on your pout and how soft your lip felt under his thumb as he stared at you through the screen wishing he could reach in it and cup your cheek, the laptop went dark when you ended the video blowing a kiss to the camera.

“She was thinking about us, next time we should leave a comment. Keep her guessing, she was reading them wondering if we were going to say something.” Suguru commented shutting the laptop down and growing excited by the second for whenever you would come in next.

It was only four days after you live-streamed when you stepped back into Satoru’s shop again, a husky vanilla scented the air from the incense on the empty front counter, you sighed and pouted a bit looking around. The color scheme was done in white and gold hues.

They blended perfectly together you thought wandering around the small area, the place before this was a tiny cafe but Satoru added a bit more to it, including the dressing rooms, his office, and a little room that could seat two to watch an adult movie.

A sign taped to the door read: “You make a mess you clean it.”

“Come back for more toys?” Suguru asked stepping out from the back room, the doorframe held beads instead of a door clacked together as he leaned against the counter watching you, his coffee eyes taking in your outfit of the day.

You hummed and walked over to him. “I sure did, but this time I’m looking for more lingerie, and I need a little help I think. What color do you think would fit best?”

Suguru slid his hand over yours turning it so he could intertwine his fingers with yours. “Spin for me, pretty girl.” He demanded in a soft tone, you let him turn you around slowly feeling heat creep up your neck and pool in your lower belly.

“Satoru!” He called out turning his head to glance at the beads before looking at you again with a predatory smile, a second later Satoru ducked out from the backroom seeing you his lips split with a grin.

He hummed his response and looked at his friend then you. “She wants to know what color suits her the best, what do you think?” Suguru asked spinning you once more and hearing them both whistle.

“I would say either white or red, your skin color is the most beautiful I have ever seen before.”

His eyes burned a hole in you it felt like, the gaze intense. “I think I actually have a set that would do well, follow me, princess,” Satoru said stepping away from behind the counter to take hold of your hand before guiding you to the lingerie racks in the corner next to the fitting rooms.

“This one is probably one of my favorites and I can only imagine how you’d look in it,” Satoru whispered bending down, his lips barely caressing the shell of your ear as he stood behind you grabbing the first piece on the rack barely brushing against you.

It was a simple open teddy body harness that showcased your tits and a tiny string that barely covered your pussy. You took it from his hands, being this close to him everything in your brain went haywire, and you didn’t trust your voice not to crack.

His slender fingers brushed along your neck fixing your necklace. “Want to try it on?” He asked opening the door next to him, part of you wanted to invite him inside to help but you kept that on the backburner gripping the hanger and stepping inside the small room.

“I’ll call out if I need help with something, thank you.” You said with a wink shutting and locking the door before shedding your clothes to slip on the new outfit, you could still feel him behind you, his musky cologne invading your nose and any common sense you had melted.

As you twirled yourself in front of the mirror Satoru and Suguru sat in the office staring at the computer, the screen showing you in full HD thanks to the camera they set up the morning after your live in hopes that you’d come back which admittedly look longer than they liked.

Suguru leaned back patting his friend's knee with a smirk. “I think you were right 'Toru, she looks fucking divine in that.” He muttered zooming in on your tits, your nipples perky from the AC that blasted down on you from the ceiling.

“I don’t know if I want to rip it off her with my teeth or hands,” Satoru replied adjusting his dick in his pants and wondering how’d you taste, he could hear your moans and cries play like a record in his brain as you changed back into your clothes none the wiser what was happening.

But if they had to take a bet both men would say you wouldn’t mind it one bit. A few minutes later you approached the counter with a few new outfits and some more toys, something different than what you’d use, a collar and two leashes hoping they’d get the hint.

“How did you like the teddy?” Satoru asked ringing you up while Suguru bagged everything just like last time, however, his hand hovered above the collar with a raised eyebrow while silently nudging his friend's foot, blue eyes saw the new item and looked at you.

“It fit perfectly, you’re right the color does compliment me the best, you’re very attuned to that stuff I see.” You replied taking the bag from Suguru with a shy smile, both of them were a bit intimidating and stood over six feet tall with smiles that screamed sinister.

They both smiled again and nodded. “I am, you should see what else I’m attuned to,” Satoru said taking a page out of your book with a wink.

“Maybe someday, see you two later.” You said blowing them a kiss and walking out of the shop, the warm sticky air made it hard to breathe along with the two sexy as sin men who watched you.

Monday morning came quickly which meant going back to your day job, but when night fell you turned into someone else, a personal pornstar is what some of your subscribers would say but they didn’t know you worked at the local library.

It wasn’t an awful job, minus the people who came in and didn’t understand that phone calls should be moved outside and where everyone else can hear, and usually, you just pushed the cart filled with books to put them up where they belonged which was very easy.

Until you didn’t have your step-stool to help reach the top but you attempted to by standing on your tip toes feeling the bottom hem of your shirt roll up exposing a sliver of your back when you felt someone’s fingertips brush along your spine.

You whirled around ready to give them an earful but clamped your mouth shut seeing Satoru looming over you with a white stick hanging from his mouth, his hair wet and shaggy as he grinned down at you. “Don’t scare me like that again!” You whined pushing on his chest.

He chuckled and moved the sucker to the other side of his mouth, his cheek puffed up from the candy. “I didn’t mean too sweetheart, I was trying to pull your shirt down.”

You huffed a bit and rolled your eyes basking in his attention, he was for sure the sexiest man to ever walk into the library. “Where’s your buddy at?” You asked looking around for the other man.

“He’s back at the shop, why? Did you want him here too?” Satoru teased setting one hand above your head leaning closer, the sweet smell of his lollipop surrounded you both and thankfully no one would be able to see what was happening being in the corner of books no one checked out.

You shrugged in an attempt to show that you didn’t care when you actually did and stared back at him feeling your panties dampen at the sight of him, tall and lanky you wanted to know how his cock would feel or taste inside your pussy and mouth, is it as pretty as him?

“What flavor is that?” You asked curiously following the movement of his tongue that peeked out.

Satoru grabbed the white stick pulling it from his mouth while using his free hand to grab your chin gently pulling your lips apart watching you stick your tongue out immediately. “Good girl.” He praised in a whisper sliding the lollipop in your mouth.

Your fingers curled around his arm and your eyes fluttered shut as you closed your lips while you sucked on the lollipop, an explosion of peaches and cream filled your mouth. The man in front of you was walking sex doing this in such a public place not caring if someone saw.

A small moan slipped past the candy as you sucked it harder opening your mouth a bit to show him swirling your tongue around it while opening your eyes to see him licking his lips while leaning in closer. “How does it taste?” Satoru asked ghosting his fingers over your jaw and neck igniting a fire deep between your legs.

“Sweet and creamy,” You murmured taking the lollipop from your mouth to transfer it to his with a smirk as you ran your open palm up and down his bicep giving it a squeeze feeling him flex under your touch while he took a step closer.

He cupped your cheek pressing himself against you a little bit. “Just how I think you’d taste. That was a sexy show you put on the other night, I can’t wait to see what you do next. But I must know whose going to use that collar.”

“Hopefully you and Suguru soon.” You replied standing on your tippy toes to kiss him on his cheek before walking off with your cart and books and a pounding heartbeat.

Satoru watched your ass as you swished your hips from side to side a bit more than what you needed to do to give him a show while you walked to the next aisle as he followed. “How soon is soon?” He asked with a slight pout leaning against the end of the bookshelf.

“Depends,” You replied glancing at him as you slid a book between another one before picking up the next one seeing that it belonged on the top shelf, “mind helping me out please?” You asked.

He grabbed the book and stood behind you once more pressing his throbbing dick against your ass as he put it away before grabbing another one titled 69 Sex Tips and flipping through the pages showing you the book landing on the position chapter with figures showing the sex positions.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the three people in a circle doing 69 on each other. “We could do rock paper scissors to see who gets to taste your sweet pussy first, the other night Suguru and I jerked each other off to you, his cock would fit so nicely inside of you.”

Satoru watched your mouth form a small o as you moved your gaze from the book to turn your head and stare at him. “You- oh my God.” You groaned grasping at the sucker stick and pulling it from his mouth to pop it back in yours.

There was nothing left to say but to walk away again with the peach candy saturating your taste buds with Satoru and the sweet flavor, his dirty whispers swirled around in your head until after your shift and when you got home to make dinner and crawl into bed.

All throughout the course of a few months, Satoru and Suguru would pop into the library to talk to you, sometimes they’d come by themselves and whisper filthy things in your ear, especially Suguru.

He always felt warm like he was running a fever, so at your break times when he would drop in you’d lead him to the breakroom and curl up on the couch reading to each other, most of the time it was erotica with light touching to leave you wanting more.

“And she sucked his cock, her tongue swiping on the underside before closing her lips around the leaky head and hollowing her cheeks to take him deeper…do you want to do that to us, my pretty girl?” Suguru asked one Thursday afternoon as you sat in his lap.

Your eyes were glued to the pages listening to his hypnotic voice that whispered dark and husky in your ear, his free hand was wrapped around your waist keeping you still as you rolled your hips a bit to alleviate the pressure that built between your legs.

“Suguru.” You whined resting your head on his shoulder wanting nothing more than to strip naked and let him ravage you on the couch not caring if one of your co-workers walked in.

He closed the book and held you closer to him as you both panted almost in sync. “I know, I know your pussy wants to be played with.” Surugu whispered letting you straddle him to run your fingers through his long hair.

“Friday night I promise to give you and Satoru a little show, so be sure to video chat me before I start recording for my page.”

He smiled and stoked your cheek letting his fingers trail down your throat to your tits tracing the underside of your bra and then your nipple thanks to the thin fabric. “For our favorite girl, we’ll do anything, we can’t wait to see it.” He murmured cupping the back of your neck.

During the times they visited you, they both stroked the fire building between you three until one of you would break down and take what you really wanted. Suguru grabbed a grape from the small bowl you packed in your lunch box and held it in front of your mouth.

He watched you part your lips letting him place the fruit on your tongue and close your lips around his finger sucking a bit as he played with your tongue depressing it before slowly sliding it a bit further making you gag.

Suguru pulled out with a smirk as he watched you eat it before helping you up and off the couch. “Tomorrow evening at seven I’ll give you a video call, be ready pretty girl.”

The next night you sat on your bed with your phone in hand watching it ring, it was well past seven, and still nothing from either Satoru or Suguru, anger pumped through your veins hot and heavy. While neither of them promised it still hurt that they couldn’t keep up on a simple plan.

You jabbed your manicured finger on the red button hanging up before tossing your phone on the mattress before getting up wondering what the hell was happening and why they didn’t call, part of you wanted to call once more before storming to their shop to give them an ass chewing.

The loud ringer of your phone startled you a bit as you wrestled for it under the covers grabbing it to see Suguru video-calling you. Quickly you hit answer and frowned staring at him and Satoru who pressed his head against his friends.

“Before anything is said, we’re sorry. Time slipped from our hands and a group of women came in looking for a bunch of bachelorette party things.” Satoru said first with a small pout seeing the annoyance on your face.

You huffed and held one of your plushies close to your chest staring at them. “Really? Did you both give them extra attention?” You asked trying to keep the jealousy out of your tone but it was very evident which only excited the men on the other end of the phone.

They both looked at each other first then you. “No we didn’t pretty, I promise. They were all over Suguru and they were even touching his hair but we tried to get them out sooner.”

For some reason it angered you more knowing other women were touching them, nothing was even set in stone about whatever was going on between you three. “They were, huh? I don’t blame them.” You muttered looking anywhere but the screen.

You felt like a little kid not getting the sucker they wanted before bedtime, there was no reason for it truly but the idea of another woman touching them had your blood turning into fire. “Are you at home pretty girl?” Suguru asked watching you pout.

“Yes. Where else would I be?” You shot back rolling your eyes.

Satoru hissed like a cat and mimicked one scratching at the air. “Put the claws away kitten, you’re the only customer that gets special attention, do you want us to swing by and cheer you up?” He asked.

Little did you know that they already had a bag packed with toys and items from the shop ready to go whenever you gave your answer. “How are you two going to cheer me up?”

“We have our ways, see you soon kitty cat,” Satoru replied with a wink hanging up his phone and standing up with Suguru grabbing the bag smirking at his friend as they left their apartment.

You waited by your door for what seemed like hours but really it was only twenty minutes when a knock startled you, quickly you looked through the peephole seeing Satoru and Suguru standing there, suddenly the gravity of the situation came crashing around you.

They really were the two best-looking men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, both of them lured you with charm and nicknames that left you feeling all warm and gooey inside. You opened the door and let them inside looking at the rain that poured from the sky.

You eyed the backpack on Satoru’s shoulder watching them kick their shoes off and shed their jackets. “I didn’t know we were going to have a sleepover.” You murmured leading them into the kitchen.

They both followed like dogs wagging their tails who knew they were getting a bone, the biggest one they ever had too and that would mean they would need to savor it.

After they fucked you good and dumb they also knew that their plan would fall perfectly into place. “It’s going to be much better than that kitty.” Satoru mused with a smirk as he stepped over to your cupboard opening the door looking for something sweet.

“Oh? What does that entail? Also, I hope you’re not going to eat me out of house and home.”

Suguru chuckled and stayed in his spot in the doorway leaning against the frame looking at you, the outfit you wore wasn’t anything scandalous but you still looked gorgeous and fuckable, everything about you pulled both him and Satoru in.

“If you let him he will, he’s very good with his mouth,” Suguru replied with a chuckle watching his friend then you.

You knew what he was getting out, Satoru turned and looked at you with a wink popping a cherry flavored sucker in his mouth swirling his tongue around it before pulling it out. “He’s right, but we came to protect you from the thunderstorms.” He said in a soft tone.

It was a little secret that you slipped one night when you two were hanging out that you get nervous sometimes in them, you turned and looked at the window watching the rain that pattered against the glass pane.

“My two knights in shining armor.” You teased reaching over grabbing the sucker from Satoru’s mouth sticking it in yours, the memory of the first time it happened you felt your pussy clench.

Suguru stepped in the already cramped kitchen behind you pressing himself against your backside as Satoru did the same only to your chest, your head was squeezed between their chests not giving you a chance to escape.

Satoru trailed his open hands up and down your sides gathering the pooling fabric and lifting it up, Suguru quickly helped raise your arms up so his counterpart could tug the shirt off of you letting it fall to the floor.

“You really are so pretty, and have the cutest pout especially when you’re wearing lip gloss.” Satoru murmrued looking down at you, his hand now coming up to hold your chin tilting your head up while Suguru leaned down kissing the back of your neck.

Shivers raced up your spin covering your whole body in goosebumps, you felt your nipples pebble from the kissing and intense stare off with the blue eyes. Slowly he leaned in making it a tease, dragging it out until finally his lips met yours.

The first kiss between you two was soft and sweet until it got hungrier and deeper as you twisted your fingers in his shirt, you broke the kiss and turned your head to kiss Suguru who held the back of your head slotting his mouth against yours.

You pulled away from him and leaned your head on Suguru’s chest looking at Satoru helping him take his shirt off, everything you dreamt of was finally coming true, the feeling of between being sandwiched between them.

Satoru dropped the backpack and let you undress him. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” You murmured taking both of their hands letting one of them grab the bag before following down the hall behind you.

All three of you stepped inside, their eyes scanning the walls and decoration before landing on the bed, a few plushies took space up next to the pillows, a four poster bed surrounded a king sized mattress in a color scheme that fit you to a T.

You kissed them both again before unhooking your bra and tossing it in your hamper. “You both know that I wanted you to use this on me.” They both watched you head over to your closet pulling out a small box filled with your toys with the collar and leashes on top.

Both of them stepped forward grabbing the leashes from your hand, the collar it was attached matched the color, they watched with throbbing cocks and slightly open mouths as you put it on, the inside was a soft fuzzy material thankfully.

Suguru pulled you closer wrapping the leather around his fist jerking you forward almost falling into them, Satoru caught you wrapping one arm around your waist. “I jerked off thinking about this, reality is much better though I have to say and being able to hold you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut melting into his arms, they both led you to the bed helping you on it, Satoru let go of his leash giving it to Suguru before grabbing the backpack removing the contents from it, multiple sex toys, and clothes. “So it is a sleepover, huh?” You teased.

They both chuckled as he continued grabbing cuffs and a short bar, again you watched them have a silent conversation before Suguru kneeled next to you helping you lay on your back. “Just for now pretty girl.” He told you taking the leash off your collar.

Their pheromones had you feeling in heat almost watching them both kneel between your legs now, they parted your thighs draping them over their laps before hooking their fingers in your panties and pulling them off.

Your curiosity got the best of you as you stayed silent watching them attach the cuffs to your ankles first, the inside the same as your collar padded with soft fur. “Grab this bar,” Satoru said as he extended it in front of your eyes.

Instantly you wrapped your fingers around it, the conversation was hazy in your mind but it seemed that you loved to spill your secrets to them telling them your darkest fantasies, and after yet again another lengthy conversation they got your permission to do indulge you during the weeks that spanned from then to now.

They were glad you trusted them, it showed in the way you let them move your limbs to their liking until the bar that held your cuffed wrists was weaved between the bars of your bedframe and your legs straight up in the air.

Suguru held the bar and pushed your legs back until your thighs were almost pressed against your ears, the stretch rippled through your muscles adding to the pleasure, with your pussy on full display it gave Satoru the opportune moment to stroke the slick flesh.

He gathered your wetness that webbed between his fingers to rub your clit while his friend took the time to kiss your breasts and nipples. “You really are pretty all around,” Suguru muttered as he pulled away while looking down at his friend slowly sliding two fingers inside you with a squelch.

You curled your toes and rolled your eyes to the back of your head, along with the other secrets you whispered into their ear they knew it’s been almost two years since you’ve been with anyone else but your own hand.

It was the same with them, but they’ve hooked up here and there with each other and you told them time and time again when you three finally did something you didn’t want anything to hinder fully feeling them, it was a dangerous game playing with heat but you were willing to get burnt a bit for them.

Their tongues were like flames stroking the wild fire inside you, they were tearing apart at your seams getting to know the real you before stitching you back together, it was a sick perverse thing to do but over the weeks they were both certain you were their missing part.

Suguru bent at his waist and swirled your clit with the tip of his tongue before dripping more spit onto your cunt and Satoru’s fingers, you moaned and swirled your hips trying to fuck yourself on his digits. “More oh please more!”

Satoru pulled out leaving you aching and empty to remove his pants and boxers getting fully naked before taking the bar from his friend so he could do the same thing until all three of you were naked.

Sweat was like a second skin clinging to your flesh, heat gathered around your bodies filling the small room, they could smell your arousal that pooled between your lips creating a sticky mess that Suguru leaned down and licked clean.

His tongue went up and down making sure not to miss a single inch before going back to your clit and sucking on it which had your back arching off the mattress as you gripped the bar that held your wrists.

While Suguru was eating you like a man starved, Satoru took the time to grab a mini wand vibrator from the bag turning it on with a mad grin as he bent down to pepper your breasts in wet kisses just like Suguru did a few moments ago.

He swirled his tongue around your nipple before drawing it in his mouth using the wand to place it over your nipple on the lowest setting, you could feel it drawing pleasure from the deepest part of you. “Satoru - Suguru!" You whined wanting more than what they’re giving you.

“What is it, pretty girl?” Suguru asked sitting up now and taking the wand from Satoru to place it on your clit, his lips shone under the dim light from your slick and his own spit, he turned the vibrations up watching you wither on the bed.

It was hard to explain the feeling they gave you, between the intense pleasure that made you feel like you were floating and the way they cooed over you like you were their girl, and maybe part of you wished that you were.

Satoru slid his fingers inside your pussy again finding a slow pace while he grazed your g-spot, he was sure to massage it a few times before curling and scissoring his digits while Suguru circled the blunt end of the wand over your clit.

You tugged on the restraints pouting and pushing your lips out wanting one of them to kiss you, Suguru leaned over slotting his mouth against yours and pushing his tongue inside and swirling his with yours while pressing the wand a bit harder.

Pulses of pleasure thrummed through you with exhilaration, moaning into Suguru’s mouth which he ate before pulling away and looking down at you with a smile. “You’re doing so good for us, can you take more?”

“Yes, I can take whatever you give me.” You replied with a breathy tone, Satoru grinned and held the back of Suguru’s neck pulling him closer and kissing him deeply before pulling away to remove the bar from your bed frame.

Both of them put you in a new position with your head hanging off the bed which Suguru held up kissing you again as he kneeled next to the side of the bed watching Satoru grab the bar and push your legs back again.

“If it gets to be too much pretty girl tap one of us twice.” Suguru reminded you in between kisses as he laid your head down slowly and gently, his cock sprang in your face thick and leaky, you watched him not able to see Satoru anymore from this position.

You nodded and opened your mouth letting Suguru feed his dick into your mouth until he heard gagging, he pulled back a bit and began to rut his hips pumping in and out as you let him, your throat becoming his own personal fucktoy.

Satoru watched the scene entranced by the two of you. He almost forgot what he was doing in the moment, his eyes were blown with lust and desire for you and Suguru. While they knew what they were doing was slimy and gross as hell, lying and manipulating you into liking them, but they didn’t care if it meant having you.

He watched Suguru hold onto the bar pulling your legs back more making it easier for Satoru to hold his shaft and rub his head between your lips, the tip caught the hood of your cunt a few times, and your clit visibly throbbed from being so turned on and the teasing.

Satoru slowly thrust into you holding the bar until he bottomed out feeling you tighten and flutter around him, he looked down at where you two were connected seeing the sticky wet mess and your pussy lips wrapped around his cock so prettily as he patted the bed for the wand grabbing the end and turning it on.

Low vibrations filled the room along with your gargled moans, Suguru looked at your lips swollen and wrapped around the base of his cock with a groan, you hollowed your cheeks meeting his gaze with wet eyes and he swore he could see your pupils turn into hearts.

He glanced at his friend who was still staring at his cock slide in and out of you, it was a sight to see, the way you molded around his dick it was almost like you were meant for him, quickly overstimulation set in from them fucking you and Satoru’s fingers playing with your nipples.

The smell of sex hung heavy in the air permeating everything, you inhaled through your nose deeply before relaxing your throat letting Suguru fuck it harder, his free hand which didn’t hold the bar reached out to grab Satoru’s shoulder pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

You watched their tongues tangle together while both of them fucked you, Satoru’s cock drove deep almost kissing your cervix making you squeal around Suguru’s dick before sucking harder, your tongue curled a bit around his head when he pulled out a bit to give you a break.

“Look at you doing such a good job taking us.” Suguru praised stroking your head with the back of his hand holding the bar in place making it easier for his friend to plant his fists on either side of you while rocking his hips and brushing your clit a few times.

The white-haired man smirked down at you as he tortured you with a slow pace and brought the wand back to your clit. “She really is, huh?” He asked ending the sentence with a broken moan making his friend chuckle while he jerked himself above your head.

Your spit made it easier to do so, the wet sound roared in your ears as he moved closer letting his cum shoot out on your chest and tits which Satoru cleaned up when his head dipped down to lap at the white essence before he pulled you back on the bed all the way.

“Holy fuck.” You muttered watching him while he stopped the movements of his hips as he licked you clean before propping himself up on his elbows and looking at you with a smirk licking his lips.

Suguru parted your lips watching you lean forward to kiss Satoru who spit the cum in your open and waiting mouth, his blue eyes were hazy as he took in the sight of you shiny with his best friend's load.

Before you could say or do anything else Satoru slowly pulled out, you whined at the loss of him then they both worked to remove the bar and cuffs massaging the skin that was surrounded by the fuzz. “You really did so well, but we’re not done yet, pretty girl,” Suguru told you with a smile.

He kissed your open palm staring at you while Satoru worked his fingers around your ankles, then again they both flipped you on your hands and knees with Suguru under you and your legs tucked under you and on either side of him.

He helped you hover above his cock before slowly pushing inside you bottoming out, the stretch was enough to have you clawing at his abs while Satoru pushed you down until your ass was high in the air making it easy to give your left cheek a small swat.

You yelped and jerked forward wrapping your arms around Suguru who held you close to him, your pussy felt so warm and tight he feared he’d cum way too quick for his liking. “Just stay still for us, okay? We should’ve told you to put in a cute little butt plug in before coming over.”

Satoru chuckled and spread your ass cheeks looking where you and his friend were connected with a grin. “I don’t know why we didn’t but I have a little something for you kitten.” He murmured.

You couldn’t see what he was doing but you could hear it, he was looking through the contents of the items on your bed grabbing the lube and plug he washed beforehand. “We know how much you love it, and we’re going to teach you how to take two in one.” Suguru teased nipping at your neck.

The cool gel was applied to your hole as Satoru slowly worked the plug inside your ass watching you open up like a flower, you really were made for them he thought before he slowly slid his finger down to your pussy tracing your lips before pushing it inside alongside Suguru’s cock.

You gasped and threw your head back pushing back against him and letting out a broken moan, they both helped you bounce up and down before Suguru had you sitting up straight to latch onto your nipple while Satoru added another finger.

They both worked in unison stretching you out, Suguru moaned around your tit as he laved it in wet kisses as Satoru kissed and nipped at your shoulders, his free hand pinching your other nipple. “You sure you can take us?” He whispered in your ear.

You nodded letting Suguru wrap his arms around your waist pulling you back down on top of him making it easy for his friend to guide his lubed-up cock against your stretched-out cunt, Satoru slowly slid himself inside you with a low groan in his throat.

All three of you stayed still getting used to the feeling you found Suguru’s mouth in a hot kiss before glancing back at Satoru who already knew what you wanted as he leaned in and kissed you then Suguru.

Then all of you were engaged in a messy kiss, you weren’t sure whose tongue was whose as hazy bliss swam heavy through you, it was hard to keep yourself upright from Satoru and Suguru fucking you dumb like they had planned.

You squeezed your pussy in quick successions grinding your hips down as they gained speed, while Suguru pulled out Satoru thrust back in creating the perfect rhythm thrumming the orgasm that sat in your belly like a guitar string.

With the butt plug it was becoming too much, your cunt spasmed around their cocks throwing your head back howling almost from the climax. “Oh, my God!” You cried out.

“There you go, keep coming for us pretty girl, you’re doing such a good job.” Suguru praised kissing behind your ear filling you up with his own orgasm feeling Satoru pull out while he slowly removed the butt plug taking its place.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan curling your fingers into Suguru’s hair grinding your hips again humping them both riding out your high. “You sound and look so pretty when you cum for us, no other men will ever bring you this much pleasure,” Satoru whispered in your ear.

And he was right, there was no way you could ever be with another man and not think about this with them, the pleasure they single handily gave you was more than you’d ever thought you’d experience in this lifetime.

It wasn’t like they saw you as some sort of toy to keep or trophy to show off even though they planned to do that later, it was the obsession that quickly took hold of them worming into their hearts like ivy on a building

You collapsed on top of Suguru feeling Satoru do the same to you, his chest pressed against your back, all three of you panting and breathing heavily coming down from your highs. Suguru rubbed your shoulders kissing your cheek gently helping you down from the high.

Your brain felt foggy with the orgasms you weren’t left to wonder how they even knew where you lived.

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 10 months

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Permission

Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: If Rafe doesn’t want you to go somewhere, that’s what you should do. Except you don’t.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relation; Domestic Violence/Abuse

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

“She’s not going.”

You and Sarah groan at the same time, eyes flicking to the door where Rafe stands.

“Stop snooping, Rafe! And get out of my room.” Sarah throws a pillow at her brother but he barely pays attention to her, his stare directed at you.

You cross your arms, annoyed.

“What?”

His eyebrows raise at your snappy reaction and he puts his hands on the pockets, his hair messy.

“I said that you are not going.” he repeats, voice layed with determination.

Giving Sarah a small apologetic smile, you leave her room, not bothering to look at Rafe as you head for his room. Plopping onto his bed, you reach for your phone but as soon as you touch it, Rafe snatches it.

“Can you stop being so annoying?” you glare at your boyfriend, but he only smirks.

You curse as Rafe takes the phone away from your reach.

“Say you’re not going.” he insists. “Say it and I’ll give it back.”

You throw your hands in the air.

“Why are you being so pushy about it? What’s wrong with going to a party?”

He squints his eyes at you and you can already guess what’s coming.

“It’s not just some party, is it? It’s a fucking Pogue party, filled with them.” you can almost taste the disgust in Rafe’s words, his lips curling downwards.

“...and I don’t want you near Sarah’s friends. They’re bad news. Especially that John B guy … and JJ.”

“Well, that’s not your decision to make, babe.” You push yourself off the bed, but he grabs your arm, swirling you towards the bed. You squeal, falling down and you’re about to yell at him when his hand wraps around your neck.

Your hand instantly claws at it, the increasing pressure making you feel uncomfortable. Rafe’s lips only curl into a half-smile, dodging your attempts to knee him.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, yeah, baby?” his tone darkens as he looms over you “You’re not going to that stupid party. Understood?”

You feel the tears burning in your eyes as you frantically nod, a shaken breath escaping your lips when Rafe releases your throat.

Touching the sensitive skin, you look up at Rafe, an unbothered expression glued to his face as he looks at you. He throws your phone to the bed, winking at you.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

"Oh shit.”

You follow Pope’s eyes and turn around. Your body freezes on the spot, eyes rounding up as you catch the sight of Rafe exiting his truck, his head moving as he looks around, a pissed off look plastered on his face.

You’re screwed.

“Isn’t that your boy, Rafe? What the hell is he doing here?” Pope asks and you dive, hiding behind his figure. Rafe was starting to create a ruckus shouting your name, Topper and Kelce with him.

Their presence makes you nervous and you decide it’s time to skip the party before anything more dramatic happens.

“You know what, I think I’m just gonna head home and-” you yelp as your arm is roughly pulled.

You barely have time to say anything before you’re being dragged away and you wouldn’t even have to look to know that it’s Rafe.

“Rafe, stop! You’re hurting me!” your pleas don’t stop Rafe, all the bystanders shocked yet no one daring to intervene, moving away from you.

You trip on your own feet and end up colliding against Rafe’s body. You whine, pleading with him to slow down but your boyfriend seems to have gone mad.

He pushes you inside his truck without a word and as he walks to the drivers side, you look through the window, catching Sarah and JJ heading your way. You shake your head at them, they’re too far and you doubt that Rafe would enjoy them interfering.

The truck starts and soon you’re on the road, small sniffles from you filling the space.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Rafe’s fingers tighten around the wheel, turning white.

“I told you not to go to the party, didn’t I?” he starts “If you fucking listened to me, then this wouldn’t have happened. You only have yourself to blame.”

You bury your nails in your bare thigh, despair starting to hit you. Without a second thought, you grab the handle, forgetting about the moving car.

It doesn’t work, Rafe quickly grabbing your hair, aggressively tugging you back inside. Both of you fight and you scratch his hand, crying out.

“Fucking hell, Y/N.”

The car stops, and you barely have time to process what was going on before your cheek implodes with pain, your face turned to the side with the impact. The bruising grip hurting your scalp as he uses it to recline your face.

He closes in, his features molding a scowl.

“I don’t think you fucking understand. I say, you obey. As simple as that.” he tugs on your hair, a reminder of his power over you and a tear slips from your eye.

“And I swear to god that if you push it one more time, baby, I’m gonna fucking destroy this pretty face of yours.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #dark!obx #dark obx #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron x reader #tw: dark content #tw: toxic relationships #rafe cameron x reader #tw: manipulation #dark!fic #dark fic #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #tw: stalking #obx imagine #obx x reader #tw: abuse

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justadeadreaper · 3 months

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TW: Hair pulling, DUBCON, Manipulation, Crying, Sadistic tendencies, "Experiments", Being a "pet", Hinting at further actions/NONCON, Past kidnapping, Kidnapped, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

Being the pet of Angel!König is not the worst fate you could have found yourself in. On one hand, you were guaranteed a spot in Heaven for the rest of eternity, which was a fate that most people dream of, while on the other hand, it meant you were never able to see your friends or family again unless they somehow made the criteria to make it into Heaven but knowing them you thought it to be impossible.

He is nice, well, as nice as he can be for an Angel who keeps you as a pet.

The Common Angels that cared for you when he was busy were the ones to gossip, and they gossiped loudly. You knew the jist of why you were there even if you did not have all the details. Apparently, most of the First Heirarchy Angels, such as Seraphim and Cherubim, tended to have a fascination with humans even if they were to never to act on it like previous ones, such as Lucifer had done. And this included Angel!König, who was the most fascinated by humans out of them all; you did not know what he had gone, but he had done something which allowed him to be granted one gift by the Almighty, and unluckily Angel!König only had his eyes on one human out of all of the ones that resided on Earth.

That human just had to be you.

You had been stolen away in your sleep and dragged away to a palace. It was grand and incredibly vast. At one point, you thought it was larger than all of Earth as it seemed never-ending as you continued to walk through its many halls. It was made up of a collection of star matter, clouds, and gold to form its walls, ceilings, balconies, staircases, floors, shelves, and anything else you could think of. You could never get bored inside of it as every time you opened a door; it showed you a room that was filled with anything you wanted to entertain yourself. Most of the time, you found yourself reading in the library as not only were their books in there, but the fanfiction you also enjoyed reading had been formed into books, and many series that you had wished to have finished were fully finished even if it would have never been possible on Earth. Another point that made the palace a dream was how the kitchen was filled with food. Like how the bathroom and closets were filled with any clothes you wanted or skin care items needed, the cupboards, fridges, and freezers were all filled to the brim with all the foods in existence that never seemed to go rotten or end. You could make anything you wanted, but most days, you would just open the doors to the dining room to find a feast already prepared for you.

You did not think as to why a being like an Angel would have all of those things as they should not need them, but you tried not to think about it. You had learnt that it was better not to think of such things.

Overall, your life seemed great. You were trapped like a bird in a cage. No matter how appealing the cage was or how glamorous it was, you were still trapped, and there was nothing you could do about it. The only thing you could do was accept your new luxurious life, as there was no point in fighting back.

In return, all you had to do was appease your new master, which was not too hard. Angel!König did not ask for much when he was around you after doing the duties he was appointed to do. For his size, he was surprisingly gentle; he never tried to harm you, at least not on purpose or if he was not doing one of his experiments. He had a few simple rules that you had to follow.

One: No asking questions, but if you have to, not too many.

This rule was only implemented due to how you kept pissing him off by asking him too many questions and screaming at him for what he had done. He banned you from asking questions after that point unless it was necessary due to you being an utterly clueless human in Heaven.

Two: Always listen to him.

Not too hard as most of what he told you to do were simple commands, but when he did start ranting to you and telling you everything about the things he found interesting, which mainly was just about killing Demons.

Three: Always do what he wants you to do.

It was the one rule you hated the most, but he somehow always guilted you into complying by saying how he was just curious and wanted to learn as he had never met a human before.

Four: Be nice and compliant.

You wanted to fight back, and at times, you tried to, but you packed that in once he had brought a Demon back to show you and told you what terrible things they would do to a human like you. You also learnt the valuable lesson of not trying to test him that day when you saw how easily he crushed that Demon’s skull in his hand.

Five: Never try to escape.

Probably the easiest rule to follow as it was impossible to escape the damn palace anyway.

The rules most of the time were not a problem. It was his experiments that were your biggest problem. They were not even real experiments, it was just his excuse to be able to do what he wanted with you.

It started off small, nothing much really. All he asked was that he could play with your hair, he said that he enjoyed playing with it as the texture was so different from Angel hair and the material that made up their wings. It was simple, just him holding a clump of hair in his hand as he seemed to study it. He even enjoyed styling your hair and helping you through your care routine for it. But, it progressed. After a while, he began to tug and pull at it, you would cry and ask why but all he would say was that he wanted to see what would happen when he did it. That was when you learned about his sadistic side as he never stopped pulling your hair, he just loved to see you cry.

From your hair, it turned into touches. He would fondle and squish at your body as he made demeaning comments about how soft and delicate mortals were compared to Angels like him. It made you feel pathetic but at the same time, it was relaxing. The heat in his palms would radiate into your muscles, helping them to relax, getting rid of all the knots that tended to plague you. He made you melt into his arms, making you complacent putty in his hands. But those touches moved to more intimate areas. It started with him toying with your nipples, pulling at the delicate flesh until you choked on tears. Then soon enough his hand went lower finding your most sensitive part. He would rub it, the callouses on the tips of his fingers made the feeling somewhat odd but it felt all the better. He would rub, flick, pull, anything he could at it until you were a crying, overstimulated mess who could barely say your own name as the sheets were covered with your own cum; he would stare at you with glossed-out eyes, deep in thought like this was all new to him.

Unfortunately, you did not know that soon he would take it further then you could have guessed. It would be an actual experiment. One to make the perfect hybrid.

Taglist: @frogchiro @diejager @suimon @konigsblog

I am so sorry for not posting in a while I have just been busy with a big project that has taken over my brain and is my main focus, plus I have had exams. Hopefully, I can post soon and start posting the project, warning some of you may be emotionally devastated or want to kill a certain character (*cough cough* like two of my friends who already are waiting in line to have a little "talk", you know who you are *cough cough*). I may come back and edit this later.

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diejager · 4 months

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if you don't mind can i ask for your take on civilian s/o and yandere makarov? i wonder how he behave around an s/o who's like the opposite of him (like they're kind, gentle and has not known violence ever). hcs or short scenario or anything depends on you i don't mind (there's a drought of makarov content tbh 😮‍💨).

thanks for considering this and please take your time. have a good day 😚.

”Love” Cw: manipulation, obsessive behaviour, delusions of love, humain training, forceful taking, verbal abuse, tell me if I missed any.

Makarov doesn’t love. He knew how to, but he never truly did. He couldn’t with the heart and mind he grew up cultivating, to build his empire and strength, dwindling his heart’s empathy. Ironically, such ignorance towards love only increased his obsession, the amount of it that would only climb higher and higher, because in a sense, the loss of such emotions lead to a loss of a limit, driving him to insane lengths to achieve what he had his mind on.

He only knew death and bloodshed, the destruction of the mundane and corruption of the innocent, being the source of the rot and decay in the cells of a flower, to make it wilt and dust. Perhaps that’s where his interest in the normal stemmed, that curiosity that would someday bloom into obsession. He searched for an object of obsession, something - someone - to put all this attention on, something tangible, solid under his hands and malleable to his intentions. Despite his lack of time to dawdle, to spend on meaningless affairs, he found the perfect subject, someone so starkly different from him and his world.

There was a dichotomy in Makarov’s world, the harshness of war, battle and conquering of countries, and the deceptive softness in his eyes, the gentle touch of his scarred and calloused hands, and the coo with his sly tongue. You were the only softness in his life, a civilian he -one day - decided to pick up from the streets, bright-eyed and innocent to the horror he saw and spear-headed. Your tired eyes untouched by his mind and your scarless body free of any conflict that he could start with a simple wave of his hand.

There’s a need in his mind to see this innocence wilt away, to pry your mind of any autonomy and freedom you’ve lived with. Makarov wanted a doll, something soft and precious he could corrupt with words and ruin with his hands, deceptively gentle and loving, a poem spilling from a cruel smirk and eyes gleaming darkly. He has his ways to turn you into a thing of his imagination, to make you into his willing Russian doll, layer over layer of maliciousness and subservience.

He’s a man of culture, letting the people under him do all the dirty work. Despite all the viciousness and madness in his being, he doesn’t hit, he doesn’t abuse the object of his obsession, that was reserved for men lower than him, poor and mindless men. Rather, he preferred manipulation, well-thought words used in right situation to have you crawling back to him for safety, protection and comfort. He wanted you to come to him on your own, to make your pliant and uncaring of the wider view. He, after all, took you for himself, to endure himself in a second source of power.

Makarov has a silver tongue, whispering words into your ears that take root, your doubts and fears growing in the depth of your heart, bringing you closer to the man who promised to protect you. His fingers wiping away your tearful cheeks, pearly gems rolling down your cheek as he teases you about being worried. You shouldn’t be so fearful with him beside you, he’s your warden, your all-powerful and dependable lover.

He won’t let a shred of suspicion towards him fester, it’ll be dealt with swiftly with the call of your name, breaking down your vulnerable mind and building it back up in his image, his opinions were yours, his thoughts were yours, his goals were yours. So much so that you were his, knowing fundamentally that whatever he said goes.

”мой маленький цветок,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against yours, hands soft but wandering, laying down chains over your waist, around your dainty wrists and tightening the collar around your neck, keeping the hold on your mind, “You did so well, I’m proud of you.”

Positive reinforcement. He often used positive reinforcement to deepen his hold, to sink his teeth into your clean soul. Sweetened words with a voice he taught you to crave and possessive touches of bloody hands with intentions that he blinded you of, finding a way to make you want them.

“What do you say?” His hand traveled up your jaw, featherlight fingers cradling your ear and cheek until it stopped under your chin, tilting your head to look at his narrowed eyes, proud and dark.

“Thank you, Vladimir.”

He smiled, a thin-lipped grin.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #mw3 makarov #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #makarov #vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #makarov x reader #makarov x you #vladimir makarov cod #vladimir makarov x you #dark fic #tw: manipulation #tw: abuse #dead dove do not eat

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anithesunshineoutlaw · 1 month

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The Van der Linde Boys Romantic Headcanons

( Realistic, Includes: Dutch Van der Linde, Javier Escuella, Bill Williamson, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Micah Bell, Kieran Duffy )

Trigger Warning: Manipulation on Micah's part

Dutch Van der Linde - Words of Affirmation/ Physical touch

• Dutch is one smooth man. He knows exactly how to hit right into your heart. And he does it well. But his honeyed words aren't the only thing charming about him. He does it unexpectedly most times, you never know when you'll have him take your hand and hold it like he's holding diamonds in his grasp. When he'll come from behind and hold you to him like you are everything he has ever wanted. When he will pull you into a slow dance and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. You never know.

He is patient though, he knows when to give you space and wait.

Javier Escuella - Words of Affirmation/ Physical touch, Acts of service

• Javier can basically be described as golden. While he is far from perfect, he emphasizes his good qualities so much, it's hard to see him as anything but the best. If he loves you, he will show it. He will shower you in compliments and treat you like the most precious gem on the Earth. While he would love showering you in affectionate nicknames and all that, he wouldn't go too fast. He takes things slow, takes his time winning you over. There are times he acts completely casual with you and then suddenly, he's treating you like royalty and placing a kiss on your hand as he rambles about how wonderful you are. It's a bit confusing sometimes.

Anyways, when he's calmer, he has other ways to show his love for you. Like sharing your work, he takes the hard part, you get the easy one. And for every mission he can, it's always like that. It's his way of showing his will to care for you and the ability to mutually grow together in the future.

Bill Williamson - Acts of service/ Quality time

• Bill is a little confused when it comes to romance. Frankly, he doesn't know how to act. He's trying, he really is but he's not good at it. He believes he has to proof himself to you so the only way he knows how to woo you is by taking care of things for you. He constantly works and does your job in order to get your attention. He will never admit he is searching for it and even if he receives your attention, he'll act as if he doesn't want it. But he does, if you acknowledge his efforts, it would keep him awake at night for the whole week.

He's very reclusive in a way but he tries to spend time with you without being obvious, he acts like it's all casual and friendly hangout but it means a lot more to him than that.

Charles Smith - Physical touch/ Acts of service

• Charles isn't very open about his affection. Not that he denies it but he doesn't talk about it often. So besides admiring you from afar, his way of revealing his care is by subtle touches. Holding your waist when passing by you, brushing his hand slightly against yours while you walk together, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, you name it. He doesn't comment on his actions but it's often you see him smile slightly when he gets to interact with you. He's of course very careful and he would immediately stop if he notices it bothers you.

Another way he likes to show his love for you is by taking care of your work for you. He'll often take on your chores, help you with a mission or even offer to take your place for a task so you get to rest. It's his way of showing he values you.

Lenny Summers - Quality time

• Lenny's way of courting is most out of all spending time together. He would take every chance to see you and get into a conversation with you. He's a good listener and an even better charmer. His confidence and intelligent insight show off what he could offer to you but he also makes sure to express tenderness and vulnerability as to present himself the way he fully is and the way he hopes for you to accept him in the future. He wants to show he's always going to be upfront with you and that if it comes to it, he wouldn't shy away from fixing his flaws and working on himself. For you both.

He doesn't overwhelm you with compliments but he doesn't miss the chance to share his thoughts on everything he admires about you either. He would share what he sees in you but there's never pressure for you to reciprocate those feelings. You could brush him off and he would respect it just as he respects you.

Micah Bell - Words of affirmation/ "Acts of service"

• Micah as terrible as he is, knows how to play his cards right. He is manipulative and observant, if he wants you, he will use your deepest desire to get to you. So, of course his main love language would be words of affirmation. Lying is practically his second nature, he can easily envelope flattery with qualities you like and by the end of it, he would hope he'll have you wrapped around his finger.

However if that doesn't work, he has other ways. Such as acts of service. Make no mistake though, he won't actually help you. Not with anything important. He'll either do something himself and expect a reward from it because he did it for you or he'll actually help you with a minor inconvenience and expect to be treated as your hero. Nothing in between.

Kieran Duffy - Quality time/ Words of affirmation

• Kieran isn't exactly the most bold with his approach yet at the same time he wants to express his love for you somehow. So as nervous as he may feel, he would share just how perfect you are to him. In a slightly childish way, but he means well. He would trust you so he would hang around you the most. Sometimes it's like you are being followed by a lost puppy but really, he just likes your company and he wants to enjoy it as long as possible.

He would admittedly be a little awkward sometimes as he would try to probably impress you in some way. He seems the type to get into his crush's interests so he would most definitely try a hobby you enjoy for himself. He may not like it but he would still show interest towards your feelings about it. He likes listening to you ramble so he often ends up staying quiet and staring at you with a certain lovestruck gaze. Before of course hurriedly replaying once it's his turn to speak.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #x reader #rdr2 headcanons #rdr2 x reader #dutch x reader #charles smith x reader #javier escuella x reader #kieran duffy x reader #micah bell x reader #bill williamson #romantic headcanons #tw: manipulation #lenny summers

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jessamine-rose · 10 months

Text

꒰ The Spider and the Fly ꒱

This is for my hormones every artist/ writer who dragged me into the Miguel O’Hara fandom. Your content is absolutely amazing, and I hope this piece can measure up to the brainrot you’ve given me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Tw:: YANDERE, kidnapping, manipulation, blood, violence, self-deprecation, mention of suicide, bondage, noncon, nsfw, MDNI

Note:: Female reader, double POV, ATSV spoilers, Best Wingman Award goes to LYLA

♡ 7.6k words under the cut ♡

i. spiral orb web

You’ve always been attracted to pretty things, and that includes spiderwebs.

In your eyes, the spider’s craft is the closest thing to art in your everyday life. It is a natural phenomenon marked by intricacy and utility, yet one so easily overlooked due to its associations with pest behavior.

Fortunately, public reception has shifted since the emergence of Spider-Man. It is thanks to your “Friendly Neighborhood Hero” that the spiderweb has been rebranded as a symbol of safety. Be it a weapon or a life-sized shelter, there is a certain beauty to those human creations.

Though the same cannot be said for Miguel O’Hara’s.

Spider-Man 2099’s webs belong to their own category. His are scarlet, bright as lasers, conspicuous and dangerous in equal amounts. When Miguel traps a villain in his webs, one is reminded that a spiderweb is the tool of a predator.

Miguel’s webs are not the only thing which set him apart from the other Spider-Men. He has more inhuman powers—claws, fangs, paralytic venom. His jaded personality and intimidating stature are also far removed from the public image which inspires hope in civilians.

Perhaps that is why you find him all the more alluring. Or it could be simply because he is the one who saved your life.

He’s done more than rescue you. After catching you midfall, Miguel regards you with shock and…pity, you think. It is the only logical explanation as to why he is being so gentle with you when your dimension’s stability is a greater concern.

It also explains why he allows you to follow him into the departing portal. No, follow is a self-preserving term. More like burst into tears, ran after him, then told him your pathetic life story and how anywhere is better than here.

Much to the surprise of his coworkers, he relents.

꒰♡꒱

At first, Miguel thinks you are an Anomaly.

It is one thing to find you in another dimension. It has happened before, and he always avoided your Variants for their sake. But you are inescapable.

Among every version of you, the happiest one was his Variant’s wife. Then there’s you, the one whose life would’ve ended if not for his interference.

He tries to justify his decision. Your departure doesn’t affect the Canon, so no harm will come to your universe. And judging by your personal data, you would be much safer in a different dimension.

His dimension, to be specific. Where he can keep a close eye on you.

He is also logical enough to recognize you as your own person. You aren’t his wife, and his observations support that theory. Your hairstyle is different. You code-switch more often. You sleep and wake up at earlier hours. You’re not as confident in your abilities.

You are alike and unlike her in so many ways, yet he still sees a spark of his sun in you.

ii. funnel web

Since then, you’ve resided in Nueva York.

In return for permanent residency, you are hired as a secretary for the Spider Society. It’s civilian work, nothing dangerous, but more purposeful than what you’d ever achieved in your old job.

Strangely enough, you encounter Miguel quite often.

At first, it feels totally warranted. He is the only person you know in Earth-928, so he guides you through every step of your adjustment. He gives you a Dimensional Travel Watch, shows you around the facility, and instructs you on how not to mess up the multiverse.

After your first week, he invites you to move in with him. Miguel claims that his home already has an extra bedroom, though LYLA’s remarks suggest otherwise. Regardless, you accept since it means a familiar roommate and better living quarters.

How thoughtful of him.

꒰♡꒱

“It’s easier to look after her if we’re under the same roof,” he rationalizes.

“Sure,” says LYLA. She flickers above his shoulder and watches the holographic screens with him. “And it’s not because she reminds you of a certain someone?”

Ignoring her, Miguel switches to a different camera angle. Peter B. Parker walks past your desk and does a double take, and he is promptly summoned for a meeting.

No doubt, there will be questions about you.

“What about the redesigns?” LYLA pulls up a screen showing two bedroom layouts, one collapsed and the other abandoned. “Should we pick one? Merge them? Think of a new design? Or we can ask for her input, seeing how she clearly has better taste than you.”

One of the monitors catches their attention, announcing an Anomaly in Earth-131222.

“We can talk about this later.” With that, Miguel opens a new screen and analyzes the data. On second thought, he adds, “She prefers thin bed sheets.”

Later that day, he escorts you home. Your mood has greatly improved since your change in environment, though you’re still quiet around him. LYLA compliments your coat, a purple remnant of her closet which Miguel lent to you, but he ignores her knowing glances.

You wear it differently, he notices. It’s the same article of clothing, but fully buttoned with a silver brooch on one lapel. The effect is significantly less casual.

“So, this is it.” Your expression turns hesitant as Miguel unlocks the front door. “Are you really sure that I can stay here?”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure,” he points out.

And it means less time monitoring the CCTVs.

“And you haven’t seen your room yet!” adds LYLA. “We know you’ll love it.”

“I guess it would be impolite to back out now.” You follow him inside and remove your coat. “I’ll try not to be a nuisance.”

He pauses.

That green dress…he could swear that he’s seen it on you before. Many shades lighter, paired with a bright smile, to match the T-shirt of the little girl by your—

“Miguel?” You frown at him, then your gaze flits to your dress. “Is there something wrong with my outfit? I didn’t commit a serious fashion crime in your dimension, did I?”

“It’s nothing,” he says quickly. But upon noticing your lingering anxiety, he admits, “You look good in it. That’s all.”

You nearly drop your coat. “W-What? Are you serious?”

Miguel could swear that you look more shocked than during your first meeting. If he were to come close enough to touch your face, it would surely feel warmer than average.

That’s enough.

“I meant what I said,” he replies, walking ahead. “Do you want to look around or are you just going to stand there?”

That snaps you out of your fluster. You follow him into the living room, a small smile making its way to your face. “The living room is pretty. Was it you or LYLA who designed it?”

The change of topic is a godsend. As Miguel shows you around, you recover from his comment and focus on your surroundings. LYLA is the next to admire your dress, winking at Miguel as she asks about the color, and he takes note of your reaction.

More vulnerable to flattery, regardless of speaker. Extremely happy afterwards.

His wife wasn’t like that. Usually, she’d be the one teasing Miguel with praises, pick-up lines, and inside jokes which he pretended to understand.

Still, it’s nostalgic to sit next to you on the sofa. He could get used to this again.

iii. lace web

In the following months, you fully adjust to your new life.

Your job in the Spider Society is manageable, fun even. Aside from the Spider-Man of your dimension, your close coworkers are kind enough to welcome you into their group. They look out for you, include you in their conversations, and appreciate your hard work.

They even indulge your aesthetic interests! One word from you, and they are already comparing webs. Among the various designs and techniques, however, none have fascinated you as much as Miguel’s.

…You do wish he’d let you roam Nueva York more often.

In case of Canon events, you need to get his permission first. Then you have to wait for him or an assigned Spider-Man to accompany you, and the latter is always a stranger whom you find difficult to bond with. Conversations with LYLA can only do so much.

You’ve recommended your coworkers before, but Miguel doubts their reliability. And every time you invite them to go with you, a new mission cancels your plans. If not for the official records, you’d suspect them of making excuses.

It’s a bit frustrating, honestly, but you know better than to complain.

You should already be satisfied with Miguel. He is an agreeable roommate, he trusts your capabilities, and he acknowledges your efforts. And no matter how closed-off or overworked he is, he's still deemed you worthy of his company.

…He is also very nice to look at. Muscular physique, handsome face, a serious gaze occasionally tinted in red. It’s a shame that he rarely smiles.

In another dimension, a better version of you would have definitely pursued him.

꒰♡꒱

“...and get this, he can shoot webs with stabilimenta. The designs are so detailed!”

“Oh, wow.” Miguel barely looks up from the monitors, grimacing at yet another Anomaly. He quickly sends an alert to the dimension’s Spider-Man. “What else?”

Behind him, you suddenly grow quiet.

“Now that I think about it, you must already know that since you recruited him. Sorry if that wasn’t anything worth listening to…are you sure I’m not bothering you?”

“You’re not.” It comes out faster than intended.

He turns around. Once again, you look surprised by his words, but you don’t ask for confirmation this time. You just nod and return to your digital reports.

Why did you visit his laboratory again? You said it was a false alarm from LYLA, who’d likely sent it on purpose. Lately, she’s been on his case about how rude it is to “avoid” you through extra work. He thinks he could easily do without distractions or triggered memories, however.

Miguel opens a private file and thinks of what you’d just told him. Apart from concerned looks from Jess and Peter B, most of the Spider-Men haven’t given you any trouble. Your coworkers, however, are a different matter.

23) ______ laughed because of some stupid pickup line from Web-Slinger. Smiled when he complimented her outfit (purple blouse, black high-waist skirt, favorite heels, pearl hairpin).

24) ______ talked about the other agents’ webs again.* She admires stabilimenta.

“You should be careful with your friends,” he tells you. He types a few more observations and closes the screen. “The last thing I need is for you to get involved in their mess. Don’t think that I can’t see them slacking on the job.”

To your credit, you don’t apologize. “Noted.”

“Miguel!” LYLA appears and moves the screens around him. “We have an Anomaly in Earth-332. Spider-Woman called for backup.”

Great, another one. It must be a persistent villain if Jess needs his help.

“I’m on it.” He types the coordinates on his watch and activates the portal.

“How dangerous is it?”

He stops, just a few meters short of leaving.

You leave your desk, an anxious look on your face. “I know you told me not to worry before, but I really have no idea of what your battles are like. So…will you be all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you. A hug comes to mind—it always calmed her anxieties—but he instead gives you a shoulder pat. “Don’t wait for me. If it takes a while, LYLA will call someone to escort you home.”

“Okay.” You’re still standing in front of him, but he can feel the tension leaving your body. “It’s my turn to cook dinner tonight, right? I’ll prepare a nice victory feast so look forward to that.”

A few more seconds wouldn’t hurt. “You don’t have to.”

You pout at him. “But I want to. Besides, it’s not fair that you are so good at making my favorite meals. I still haven’t perfected yours.”

Secretly, Miguel thinks your cooking tastes better than his wife’s. But whatever keeps you distracted while he is saving the multiverse.

It’s also…nice to talk about work with you. With her, he had to act normal and make up excuses for his sudden disappearances. It’s refreshing to see your concern and know that you are praying for his safety. To imagine your relieved smile when he comes home.

“Miguel!” LYLA reappears between the two of you. “I hate to ruin the moment, but Spider-Woman could really use some help right now. I know you’re counting the seconds!”

No more time to waste.

“I’ll see you later.” He lets go of you and walks into the portal.

“Take care!” you call after him.

iv. triangle web

“Welcome home, love!”

As the door opened, Miguel resisted the urge to flinch. The lights were always too bright.

His Variant’s wife wasted no time hugging him. “What took you so long?”

“Something at work came up,” he explained, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Again?” You closed the door behind him, a frown replacing your smile. “That’s the third time this month. Is there a problem in your office?”

“It’s…classified information. But nothing to worry about, mi sol.”

The house felt lively, even with Gabriella temporarily away. Warm lights. Family photos. Personal belongings scattered about. Your cheerful presence leading him.

The TV in the living room was on, paused at the beginning of a new film. Movie nights were an old family routine, he’d learned. The first time Miguel arrived in your husband’s place, you and Gabriella had agreed on an animated classic.

“Okay then. I’m just glad your office isn’t in the same area as that crime from earlier. Was there any debris blocking the road?”

“Not much.” And definitely none on the route to your workplace.

Upstairs, Miguel took a shower and contacted LYLA. The Anomaly had been returned to its original dimension. If he were lucky, none would appear tomorrow.

You were on the sofa when he came back. Wordlessly, he sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulder. The film began playing.

“I called Gabriella,” you murmured. “She and her friends are already planning their next sleepover. I’ll pick her up tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good to hear. Have you gift-wrapped her present?”

A pearl ring glinted above your intertwined hands. “It’s in my closet.”

Note to self: Ask LYLA to record the party. It will be a nice memory to revisit.

He smiled at you. “I can’t wait to see her reaction.”

The movie had a happy ending. It was, in your words, a cinematic masterpiece.

“That’s how it ends?”

Your outburst prompts Miguel to face the opposite end of the sofa. In the dim light, he can easily make out the unimpressed look on your face.

“The ending looks decent to me,” he muses. “If you ignore the logistics of their reunion, the film is entertaining enough to rewatch.”

“I think it could be more realistic. And you’re saying that across the multiverse, this is the most common version of the movie?”

“In five dimensions, to be exact. Others have the same ending but different actors.”

You pause. “I’ll admit that Earth-928’s version has superior costume design. But I still prefer my dimension’s neutral ending. Maybe it’s because our societal values are different.”

The closing credits continue, but neither of you leave the sofa. You’re still criticizing the film under your breath, unaware that Miguel can understand every word. He does agree that the happy ending causes a few plot holes.

At least with you, he can adjust the brightness levels.

“We can watch your version next time,” he offers, reaching for the remote with his webs.

“Really? You don’t mind?”

He turns off the TV. “We can do it on my next day off.”

Knowing LYLA, this won’t be the last time she plans a movie night without telling him.

“Well, what else could I do?” she asked after he privately demanded an explanation. “You’ve been working yourself too hard, Miguel. You could really use a break, and so does ______.”

You take the remote from him and untangle the web fluid. “Do you mind if I keep this?”

Miguel gives you an odd look. “For what reason?”

You twist the web in your hands, forming string figures.

“As a decoration, maybe. Oh, and for the record, I don’t go around collecting webs from your coworkers. I just find yours particularly interesting.”

Weirdo. “My webs are functional like the others’. That’s all there is to it.”

You look him in the eye this time. “Hey, you should give yourself more credit. It’s my belief that every spiderweb is a work of art. And before you call me overly romantic, there have always been artists who thought they were worth noticing."

The web loops around your ring finger, in the place where her wedding ring used to be.

He averts his gaze. “I don’t see it that way. But whatever works for you.”

Another moment of silence.

“There is another reason,” you add softly.

He side-eyes you. “Is it about that day? You don’t need to keep thanking me for saving your life. As I said, I was doing my job and anyone would’ve done the same.”

“I wasn’t talking about you catching me.”

Oh, you meant that.

The web tangles in your hands.

“Listen.” You take a deep breath, eyes on your lap. “I know you’ve been avoiding this subject. Maybe it's so I don’t feel indebted to you or pressured into reliving bad memories. But…I just want you to know that I’m glad you foiled my plans.”

…It would be best to let you finish first.

Your voice shakes. “I mean, you’re smart, aren’t you? Even without my meltdown, you would’ve figured out that my fall had nothing to do with the Anomaly in my dimension.”

He did. And that was precisely why Miguel mistook you for one at first. It wasn’t just your identity but the fact that you were found in danger after the Anomaly had been captured.

Ten minutes post-battle. The undamaged state of the nearby buildings. The passive acceptance in your demeanor.

He can vividly recall the rest of that day. Those hours spent studying your personal data, identifying every action and condition which diverged from his wife's path.

A loud sigh. “I just—I couldn’t take it anymore, okay? I thought it would be easier to put an end to my mistakes, then you had to show up. And thanks to you, life has been great! I like this world, I’m not alone, I still have my personal issues to work through but I’m trying to do better. But yeah…I’m just sorry for forcing you to get involved.”

“It’s not your fault,” he insists. He scoots closer to you and puts his hand on top of yours. “I made the choice to bring you here. And I couldn’t exactly leave you, knowing your situation.”

That is a lie. Rather, half of his thoughts were about his wife and how he’d been able to sustain her happiness. How that farce proved he could do the same for you.

“Either way, I’m grateful.” You look up, your lips curving into a shy smile. “I’m really happy now, Miguel. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’ll never regret my decision to follow a cryptic stranger into a portal. Even if it meant learning that the multiverse is in constant danger. Or that my favorite film has an alternate ending which makes no sense to me whatsoever.”

Has his wife ever looked at him like that? There is a soft brilliance to your gaze, wholly reserved for him. It triggers a warm feeling in his chest.

The moment is quickly ended when you cover your face with a cushion.

“Anyway! If you don’t mind, I’d really love to move on and talk about something else. How was your mission earlier? Is Earth-199999 still giving you a hard time?”

You’re still seated next to him, legs touching. Your tone leaves no room for objection.

He lets go of your hand. “You would not believe what kind of shocking messes we’ve had to deal with. We are never recruiting Dr. Strange or his little nerd.”

“You can tell me all about it.” You untangle his web from your hands; it loops around your pinky finger this time. “I’m here for you, okay? For as long as you’ll have me.”

v. mesh web

There have been more Anomalies lately.

You walk past the detained villains, silently counting them. Their increase in numbers has kept the Spider Society on high alert for the past weeks. While it means more documents for you, the effect on Miguel’s stress levels is concerning.

Come to think of it, has he returned from his mission yet? If not, you hope the cafeteria’s takeout boxes have a self-heating function. As you get closer to Miguel's laboratory, you hear the door open. The sound is followed by two sets of footsteps.

“Do you think it’s healthy for him?”

“I’m more worried about ______.”

You stop walking.

Is that Peter B and Jess? Why are they talking about you?

Jess’s tone is reproachful. “The poor girl has been through so much already. It’s not safe for her to be here, at least in HQ. He knows that she is a different case from Gwen.”

“You know how Miguel is. I’ve already asked about her, and he won’t tell me anything new. Not even my Super Adorable Mayday album could convince him.”

“I don’t like this, Peter.”

Their footsteps become louder. You go back to the entrance of the hallway, just within earshot but hopefully far enough to evade their Spider-Senses.

“Neither do I. But you should’ve seen him when he lost their daughter, Jess. Now think of his wife: He never got to see ______ before she disintegrated. Then one day, out of nowhere, after staying away from countless Variants, he finds a version of her who needs him.”

…What the hell are they talking about?

The walls close in on you. You take a step back, followed by another.

Then, at the sound of a sharp “Is someone there?”, you drop the takeout box and run.

Their daughter. His wife. A version of her.

You already know that Miguel lost a family in another dimension. It was briefly mentioned when he warned you about Canon disruptions, but he refused to share the details. Is this why?

This whole time…you are a Variant of his wife?

You aren’t followed. Your coworkers cheerfully greet you, but you ignore them and return to your desk. It’s arranged the way you like it, complete with personal decorations. The drawer holds a stress ball in your favorite color, a gift from Miguel of all people.

You never did tell him that it is your go-to stress reliever. Was it the same for her?

You squeeze the ball and take deep breaths, but the action does little to calm you.

It all makes sense. Why else would Miguel take an interest in you?

Your gaze lands on your Dimensional Travel Watch before you remember that the idea is futile. Yours is only a modified version which prevents glitches but can’t be used for travel. And the Go-Home Machine would require Spider-Byte’s help.

…Why are you even wasting your time on an escape plan? How are you sure that you won’t mess up and make another mistake?

“______?” LYLA appears in front of your face. Her greeting sounds different.

He knows.

You force yourself to answer. “Y-Yes?”

“Miguel is back.” She flickers as usual, but it doesn’t change the nervous look on her face. “He wants to see you.”

꒰♡꒱

Peter B will be dead when he gets to him.

Several screens surround Miguel, each playing CCTV footage. He focuses on a live recording of you on your way to his laboratory.

At least you are complying with his orders.

The platform is fully lowered by the time you get there.

“Hey…welcome back,” you stammer. “How was the mission?”

“It was fine,” he replies brusquely. “Jess and Peter B spoke with me as soon as I came back. I was just confirming the status of Earth-67 when I checked the CCTVs. Care to explain?”

A heavy silence falls between the two of you. LYLA is nowhere to be seen.

Your panic is evident. Your gaze wanders, at everything but Miguel, until it stops at the dented takeout box on his desk. “Is that…is the food still warm? Or have you already eaten in Earth-67? I forgot to ask in advance.”

He glares at you. “Are you seriously worrying about my lunch right now?”

“Well, what else am I supposed to say?” you shoot back. The anger in your tone is unmistakable. “‘Hey, Miguel, when was I supposed to know that we were a family in the dimension you accidentally collapsed?’ Does that sound any better?!”

“Believe me, I was going to leave you alone at first.” He grips the edge of his desk, resisting the urge to raise his voice. “But how could I do it after the way you reacted?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You could’ve easily said no! This whole time, I wondered why you were so willing to help me. I thought you were being nice, that you believed giving me a better life was worth all these risky accommodations. Was…was I wrong?”

Your voice cracks at the last part, and you hastily wipe your eyes. It’s reminiscent of your first meeting, the distressed shock which Miguel had never seen in his wife. Only that time, you had sought out his comfort.

“Tell me, was it because of her?” you whisper. Tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill. “Is that all you’ve ever seen in me?”

“You have the wrong idea.” Miguel approaches you, but you instinctively back away. He raises his hands in a placating gesture. “If you would just listen to me—”

“How can I?!”

Your hand settles on your wrist, unconsciously fiddling with your Dimensional Travel Watch. The clasp loosens, and his reaction is immediate.

He grips your arm. “Don’t do that! You’ll get yourself—”

“Let go of me!”

You pull back, clawing at his wrist, but Miguel's grasp only tightens. His other hand taps the watch’s controls to activate the Lock feature.

“This is for your own good, ______." In the split second that he releases you, his webs shoot out and bind your limbs together.

“No!” You collapse onto the floor. The scarlet threads dig into your skin, emitting a harsh glow in the dark. “Please, just let me go!”

After everything he’s been through, he is not losing you again.

Ignoring the stab of guilt, he picks you up and salvages what is left of his composure.

“You see, this is why I didn’t tell you.” He sighs, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

You’re still shaking in his grasp, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I…I’m not—”

His kiss easily silences you. It’s far from intimate but the sensations are familiar. Warm lips. The scent of your perfume. The addictive rush of euphoria. Physical and chemical reactions which couldn’t be adequately explained in words.

And the whimper that escapes your lips when Miguel pulls back to press a light kiss to your forehead.

“We can continue this conversation when we get home.”

vi. cobweb

Your days in the Spider Society are over.

Not permanently. Miguel says that you can resume work once you’ve calmed down, but you doubt it will happen under any pretense of freedom.

Since your confrontation, you’ve been confined in his home. As it turns out, Miguel had already prepared for this—locks, alarms, hidden cameras, a comprehensive speech which only elevates your horror.

“She wouldn’t want this,” you keep insisting. You writhe against your restraints, but the webs remain taut against your skin. “How would your ______ feel if she knew?!”

“She’s not here anymore.” Miguel looks away from your face, as though the reminder physically pains him. “What matters now is that I have you. The both of us can start over.”

“How can you say that?!” At this point, you’re on the verge of hysteria. “You…you don’t actually love me. You’re only doing this because I’m the closest you have to getting her back!”

The hand on your cheek makes you flinch. The gentle caress does little to soothe you, not with the underlying threat of his claws. His eyes flash red in the dim light, brimming with—what do you call it? Grief? Desperation? Obsession?

You can’t tell, not when those sentiments are for someone else.

“You only say that because you don’t know any better,” he says softly. His lips meet yours, trapping you in a deep kiss. “Now get some rest, mi sol. It’s been a long day, and we know how you get when you’re stressed.”

My sun. What a lie. Since when have you done anything to deserve such a title?

You can’t bother to fight back. You’re too tired to think, to resist the kiss, to move an inch as Miguel undos your restraints and tucks you into bed.

Instead, you close your eyes and retreat into slumber. But even in your last seconds of consciousness, his gaze is strongly felt.

As it turns out, Miguel really did consider all possibilities. Your Dimensional Travel Watch has an exclusive Lock feature, should you ever be tempted to escape him through death. It can only be removed during your scheduled baths, with LYLA acting as your timer.

You rarely talk to her, either. She clearly feels sorry for you, but not enough to help. She monitors your daily activity, keeps you company when Miguel is away, and tries to cheer you up. She has yet to accomplish the last task.

Against your better judgment, you ask her about your Variant. She is resistant at first, knowing the negative outcome, but you are persistent. In the end, LYLA decides that it’s better to show you a few videos than for you to ask Miguel directly.

…Your Variant is perfect. Pretty. Carefree. Successful. A calming presence. You can see why Miguel would fall for her, with how she effortlessly puts a smile on his face.

Among your Variants, isn’t there one who bears a closer resemblance to her? Or were they too important to leave without disrupting the Canon? Is that why he settled for you?

“You have a better sense of style,” LYLA offhandedly mentions. “It was Miguel who said that. And do you know that he calls you one of our best workers?”

It doesn’t make you feel any better. “I see. Thanks for letting me know.”

As LYLA predicted, the information only makes you feel worse. You can’t stop thinking about your other self. How did she turn out like that? How did she succeed in your failures? How has Miguel perceived his moments with you, as new memories or a replica of lost time?

You don’t want to ask him. You’ve had enough disappointments for one lifetime.

Neither do you make an escape plan. On the low chance that you succeed, you don’t have anywhere to go. The Spider Society, or most of them, is loyal to Miguel. And it’s not like you’d be better off in your dimension, back to your empty home and dead-end job and daily reminders of your insignificance.

At least here, you can feel valued. Even if you owe that to someone else.

꒰♡꒱

“I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so.”

Miguel doesn’t look up from the screens. “Now is not the time for this.”

LYLA is anything but smug. ”Are you sure? Because you said that when I asked if you’d ever tell her the truth, and look where that went. A civil explanation might’ve been nice.”

“How is she?”

“No better than with you.”

The CCTV switches to the kitchen. By now, you've established a new routine—lie awake in bed, rearrange your room, watch TV, cook your own meals. It's repetitive but easy to follow.

He zooms in on the ingredients. “Do you see anything suspicious?”

“No potential poisons,” LYLA responds, equally focused. “Oh, is she cooking dinner again? Last night’s meal looked really good.”

“It probably helps. Gives her something to preoccupy herself with.”

In the end, you’ve chosen the docile route. You’re still tense around Miguel, but your behavior can’t even be counted as malicious compliance. You just go through your new routine, trying to create some semblance of normalcy in confinement.

Though internally speaking, he has no access to your thoughts.

“She’s quite different from his wife, isn’t she?” asks LYLA. “I like this version of ______.”

Miguel zooms in on you this time. In your current state, you’ve revealed more contrasts to his Variant’s wife. It actually doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

When did his feelings for you begin? Was it when he saved you? When he saw a spark of his beloved in you? When that spark turned out to be your own brilliance?

All he knows is that you’re the one who consumes his thoughts nowadays. Your distinct preferences, your little quirks, your quiet words, your uncertain expressions, your attitude towards him and no other Miguel.

...There must be a way to persuade you. If Miguel was able to play along with his Variant’s family, to the point that his love for them became genuine, the same can be said for you. He just needs to prove that you can and will be happy together.

The only thing missing would be Gabriella.

vii. sheet web

You’ve been promoted to Miguel’s bedmate.

His room isn’t much. It is dark, minimalist, often empty due to the nature of his work. There are zero mementos of his lost family, not even a framed photo or something of her influence.

They’re probably hidden somewhere. How considerate.

On most nights, you act oblivious to your new sleeping arrangement. You just say good night to Miguel, lie down on your side of the bed, and try to fall asleep as quickly as possible.

…That turns out to be more difficult than expected. Try as you might to feign sleep, you can’t relax in Miguel’s grasp. He holds you tightly in his sleep, your back pressed against his chest. You wonder if it is a familiar position or a means of keeping you close.

Lately, he has switched tactics. Movie nights have become a regular pastime. You’ve received permission to work from home, sans contact with the Spider Society. The two of you have even gone outside for a few dates, though his grip on your hand discourages any escape attempts. Awkwardness aside, he’s been more physically affectionate.

It’s absolutely jarring, but you’re somewhat grateful for the added comforts. If your choices are different from his wife’s, Miguel doesn’t seem to mind.

This should be fine. It’s better than when he was acting like an overprotective control freak…even if those methods had left no speculation as to who the intended receiver was. With this approach, you can never be sure if Miguel sees you or his wife in front of him.

You try not to dwell on it more than you already have. You’re still here. Your living conditions have marginally improved. Miguel doesn’t expect you to be more like her.

You just need to keep it together, like you always have.

That is what you keep telling yourself, up until the night Miguel asks for your thoughts on starting a family.

“No. Please, stop!”

Red. In the dark, all you can see is red.

The lurid color wraps around you, binding your wrists to the headboard. The webs are taut, no-frills, effective in their sole purpose of keeping you trapped.

No, what’s worse is Miguel. His gaze is trained on you, scarlet orbs alight with crazed desire and your own terrified reflection.

“Stop struggling,” he sighs as he pins you down. Blood decorates his bare arms, from where your scratches failed to stop him. “You’re only going to get yourself hurt.”

You continue, anyway, only to scream as he leans down and sinks his fangs into your neck. It hurts, the flesh burns, everything feels heavy—

You can’t move.

It doesn’t take long for the venom to kick in. The numbness spreads throughout your body, leaving you dizzy and helpless. Your limbs won’t cooperate at all.

Yet despite the paralysis, the pain stays with you. It’s the only sensation you can feel—the sharp ache in your neck, the chafing around your wrists, the sting from where Miguel accidentally scratched your thigh while tearing off your clothes.

“Mi sol, you are still tense,” he mutters. His lips remain on your neck, administering light kisses to the fresh wound. A clawed hand presses down on the bed, puncturing the fabric, to support his weight. “You need to calm down.”

You can only bite your lip as he moves on to your chest, tainting the skin with love bites. His other hand retracts its claws and strokes your stomach, tracing—are those patterns supposed to be her stretch marks?

Of course he memorized them. She must be on his mind right now.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but the ministrations continue. His thumb strokes your hip, eliciting a stifled moan, and the self-inflicted darkness gives way to the sight of Miguel’s irritated expression.

“You’re not listening to me, ______.” His eyes flash, daring you to try again. The sight of his exposed fangs, speckled with your own blood, triggers another wave of dread.

Should you even be surprised that he knows your sensitive spots? He already made it clear that any form of escape is in vain.

It's pure torture. It would be easier if Miguel would just have his way with you, use your body to his heart’s content, leave you to your thoughts. But no, he is taking his time and making sure that you physically enjoy this. Ensuring that you will be ready for what comes next.

“S-Stop.” Your lips are still numb, but you manage to form words. “I said…I don’t want this! I’m not ready!”

“Shh.” He silences you with another kiss, his palm pressing down on your stomach. “You’re only saying this because it’s our first time. You have to trust me.”

It’s hard to believe him when you know that his composure is slipping. What is he trying to hide? His ragged breaths? The hardness pressed against your inner thigh? The urgency with which he lifts your legs up onto his shoulders?

“You’ll understand once our child is here,” he says. He breaks off the kiss, his voice hushed to a reverent whisper. “We will be so happy, happier than you can ever imagine.”

“You’re lying…I can’t—!”

You can’t stand to look at him. His gaze is so cruel, clouded with love, adoration, hope. Skies, he looks so hopeful. You don’t want to wait for the day he looks at you differently.

Was this how he looked at her? How did she return his gaze? It must’ve been passionate. It must’ve been romantic. It must’ve been so promising.

“I can’t give you Gabriella!”

The world stops as soon as those words leave your mouth.

“...What did you just say?” Miguel stares at you, eyes wide.

Of all Variants, why did it have to be you?

That is when you burst into tears.

How humiliating. It’s hard to breathe, it must be an ugly sight, and you can’t do anything to cover your face. But it’s enough to make Miguel stop and listen to you.

“I can’t give you Gabriella,” you repeat in choked sobs. “It requires an exact time, specific cells and DNA. And even if we succeed, I can’t raise her into the child you knew. I...I can’t restore your family. I can’t be her.”

In the end, you will only disappoint him.

“______…” He raises his hand to wipe your tears, but you interrupt him with a glare.

“Honestly, why did it have to be me?!” you shout. “Why couldn’t you have found a better duplicate of your wife? This wouldn’t be happening if you’d chosen the right ______!”

He doesn't respond.

For a few seconds, all you can hear is your own pitiful weeping. You vaguely register the feeling of your legs hitting the mattress, of the absence of Miguel’s touch, but you keep your eyes closed. It’s easier that way.

Suddenly, there is the sound of threads snapping. Then the sensation of strong hands coming under your back, lifting you upwards, pulling you into an embrace.

Your eyes fly open. “What—”

“Ya, calladita.”

Miguel…is he hugging you? He holds you tightly, repeating the words in a hushed tone. The message is followed by a string of curses which, judging by the way he turns away from you, must be solely directed at himself.

Paralyzed, you can only stare down at your lap. At his webs, still wrapped around your wrists but no longer connected to the bed. “What are you—”

“Could you let me talk for a second?" he snaps. He tilts your face upwards, allowing you to take in his glare. “You are my first choice. Not the version of you from Earth-94, Earth-835, or any other dimension in the multiverse. It doesn’t matter that you are different from her.”

This can’t be true. “Still, I—”

“As for Gabriella, you’re right." There is a flash of resignation in his gaze, so sorrowful that it clashes with his words. “I knew that from the start.”

“...Then why?”

Your head spins. His hands are still on you, caressing your cheek and keeping you in his grasp. The numbness gives way to warmth.

“Well, it doesn’t change the fact that any child from you will be ours,” he answers. His voice softens, as does his gaze. “Just as you are mine and I am yours.”

The words get stuck in your throat. “Are…are you sure?”

How can he say such a thing? Your sense of hearing must be damaged. It is the only logical explanation as to why—

The look in his eyes leaves no room for doubt. “I promise.”

...What else can you possibly say?

Your vision blurs. Miguel is still speaking, another quiet reassurance from the sound of it, but it’s all static in your head.

What the hell are you supposed to do with this information? It’s beyond your comprehension, too subjective and unproven for the likes of you. And yet you feel…good. Happy. So, so happy despite everything you have been through.

Skies, you are truly pathetic.

No, what’s more pathetic is the way you cry harder and melt into Miguel’s embrace. It’s the way you listen to his remaining praises and beg him to keep talking. To list everything about you that is good and faultless and desirable to him, everything he thought was worth noticing.

And when he kisses you, you willingly reciprocate.

The darkness is soothing.

The dim lights cast the bedroom in shadows. It’s a blessing to your dizziness, your eyes tired from crying. With this obstacle to your vision, you can pretend that the previous hours never happened.

Almost. The soreness, the deft hands tending to your injuries, and the immense euphoria are impossible to ignore.

It’s also painful, unbearably painful now that the venom’s effect has fully worn off. You can only sit up and wince as Miguel disinfects another wound.

He looks up in concern. “Are you okay?”

“I am.” You give him a weak smile as he bandages your thigh and mumbles a second apology. “I feel better already.”

His own injuries are equally evident, from your hesitant love bites to the scratch marks on his back. As guilty as you felt, you could only say so much before Miguel silenced you with a withering look.

…You will make it up to him tomorrow. If you are still capable of walking.

The thought leads you to cry into the pillow, muffling your curses. If Miguel can understand you, he doesn’t say anything. Rather, he closes the first aid kit and holds your hand.

“I’ll draw a bath,” he tells you. “Can you wait for a few minutes?”

Your thumb brushes against his pulse point. His heart rate is frustratingly calm, perhaps slightly above average if you are to flatter yourself. Maybe you can count the number of beats and ask LYLA tomorrow. She will be happy to confirm it.

You meet his gaze, intertwining your fingers with his. “Sure.”

You’d like to think that his last kiss is another promise.

With that, Miguel stands up and leaves the room. As for you, you lie down and go back to screaming into the pillow. Tired as you feel, you haven’t felt this thrilled in years.

Then the spiderwebs catch your attention. They’re still stuck to your wrists, albeit frayed. There are loose threads from where Miguel broke them.

Red. Illuminating the dark, holding you close, keeping you safe.

Carefully, you pick apart the threads and twist them around your hand.

No string figures this time. Your technique is clumsy, irregular, lacking beauty and order. Nonetheless, you continue until your left hand is covered in a glovelike pattern.

The final knot is above your ring finger. It’s a perfect fit.

It is the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

♡

Author's Note ๑ Side Story 1 ๑ Prologue ๑ Epilogue ๑ Side Story 2

“I’m just going to write a short post to purge my brainrot,” I say, shortly before Miguel O’Hara unlocks a core memory of me reading The Spider and the Fly and inspires me to write 7.6k words with literary references.

Thank you so much to @diodellet for beta-reading this and @yanmaresu for helping me with the Spanish phrases!! As for my readers, I hope you enjoyed my take on Yandere! Miguel and his darling. Do entertain me with your comments and brainrot ⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @kocherry @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @h2o2-and-baking-soda @ansy-tea @yandere-wishes @weebsinstash @curesi @robindere @crystalcrynight @mrlidocaine @handsomeunderwear-art @blughxreader @chiikasevennn @fortheloveofleon

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maladaptiveobsession · 1 month

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yandere alastor headcanons

contains: gn reader, nsfw themes, noncon, manipulation, violence, cannibalism, sadism, overstimulation

yandere alastor:

who is manipulative and deceptive. desperate as you were, gaining your trust was simple enough. belong to him and all of hell’s pleasures will be at your fingertips. not to mention that your safety is guaranteed. supposing you don’t fall for his deceit, he’ll simply force you into his hands through his connections. you’ll find yourself at the mercy of his artifice.

who wants to posses all of you. your soul, your mind, and your body belong to him. you’ll find he’s not the least bit squeamish, claiming your body in ways no others have. the manner in which he desires your form is far from sexual, though he must admit there is a certain appeal in driving you past your limit. each cry for mercy so delectable when you’re at the mercy of his shadows. give him all of you, he’s not afraid to take it.

who invades your space, manhandling you whenever possible. he delights in your irritation, satisfied as you storm off in fits of pique. how entertaining! knowing only he creeps under your skin so grotesquely, how easily he dominates you, quenches unspeakable urges.

who is fascinated with your physical, mental, and emotional limitations. who derives pleasure from your suffering. where even death is not permanent, there are no limitations for this deranged cannibal. fight back if you please, he loves a challenge. why, your cries alone sends him into a frenzy!

who wants to consume you. who wants to taste you slowly until there’s nothing left. fortunately for you, he finds you far more entertaining whole rather than in pieces. he’ll just have to be satisfied with samples.

who is affable and good-humored, easily creating a warm atmosphere. you often find yourself well disposed to his presence, despite his obvious flaws. you wish you could hate him.

who, unbeknownst to even himself, may grow to care for you in his own twisted way. he’ll heavily deny any genuine affection, disregarding any concern for your wellbeing. his protection is adherence to your deal, nothing more. why risk damaging his favorite plaything? he’d be a fool to lose such lovely entertainment? should you find yourself at the mercy of an exorcist, he’ll be forced to come to terms with his attachment.

#gn reader #mndi #tw: noncon #tw: manipulation #tw: violence #tw: cannibalism #tw: sadism #tw: overstimulation #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #mal.mine #described #image description in alt

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candiid-caniine · 2 months

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my favorite thing about denial is the opportunities for mindfuckery. gaslighting and emotional manipulation, in particular.

"if you want to cum so bad, why do you get so wet when you're denied?"

"you came just now. yes you did. are you such an edged-out slut that you don't remember what it feels like? i know you came, and i didn't give you permission, so now you're in big trouble."

"but your hole feels so much better when it's denied. don't you want to make me feel good?"

"if you could just stop touching yourself so much, maybe you'd be able to prove you deserve to cum."

"every time i tell you 'no,' you get wetter. i don't care if you don't believe me, i can feel it."

"your orgasms are so special for me, and i don't want them to lose their specialness. don't you want to save them for special occasions? if you just cum all the time, i'll get so bored of it..."

"if you won't give them up for me, you don't really respect me."

"only sluts cum every day. do you want to be a slut? because i have no problems treating you like one."

"when you stop being so pathetic, maybe i'll let you cum."

fuck. when they say shit like this to me,,

#0rgasm denial #edging kink #t4t nsft #h/d #denial #only barks #tw: gaslighting #tw: manipulation #dizzy

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konigsblog · 25 days

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jealous, stepbrother-simon riley...

warnings: stepcest, non-con/dub-con, rape, guilt tripping, coercion, manipulation, dark content. dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+

PHOTO CREDIT: @AVE661

your stepbrother finds a sickening form of enjoyment by manipulating and guilt tripping you into getting whatever he wants. it's no surprise—or at least it shouldn't be—that your stepbrother can't help himself when it comes to you. he claims it's just him being overprotective with his beloved stepsister, but deep down, simon's gut churns with rage and jealousy when he sees that man, claiming his spot as your boyfriend.

you deserve better—deserve someone that knows you so well, that being simon. he doesn't enjoy seeing your boyfriend, and will snarl at the hickeys on your neck. it makes him sick, and he'll force tears to run down his cheeks, ranting about how lonely he is, how desperate he is to feel something, how being in the military leaves him pathetically lonely, with no time for relationships...

his pitiful sobs leave you feeling guilty, ashamed of yourself—as if you belong to simon. he'll convince you to ride him, or to jerk him off, or even suck his lengthy cock for hours to make it up to him. if you don't comply, he'll take it for himself, telling you through forced weeps how desperate he is—how cruel and horrible you are to refuse and reject him, as if you truly have a choice.

his large and calloused hands forcefully pry your supple thighs open, insatiable and hungry off the scent of your drooling, sweet pussy. the sight of your warm heat leaves simon beyond desperate, as he rubs his bulbous cock back and forth, taunting your clit before easing inside, his breathing quick as he holds you down and thrusts gently, shaming you for being ungrateful. he ‘protects’ you all the time, and yet, you refuse to simply repay him by spreading your folds and allowing him to sink inside that cunny of yours?

he layers your skin in bruises and hickeys, his voice guttural as he shames you for being with that man, for denying him of the right to fuck your pretty pussy. each harsh and deep thrust leaves your body shaking and trembling, tight cunt weeping and slick, morphed to fit simon's cock as you sob out at the ache.

you take him so well—you're all he wants and desires, lovie. what don't you understand? you're made for each other, give in to simon. :(

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kneelingshadowsalome · 3 months

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one of my favorite things about Kö is how differently he would treat his Darlings male friends vs female friends. like a male friend is constantly walking on a wire and every move is hyper analyzed "what do you mean GOOD morning?? are you implying she wasn't having one before? that I could not make her mornings good enough?? Liebe I told you he's got his eye on you let me beat him up"

meanwhile a female friend could straight up walk in and honk her titty and he would probably be like 🤷‍♂️ "women are such affectionate creatures, who am I to get in the way of a beautiful feminine friendship I wonder if they kissed before"

I know he's vaguely aware that he's being a bit of a hypocrite, that he's probably more jealous than the average man (god save him from being counted among any kind of "average" ever) and holds a few double standards, but that still doesn't mean he should get therapy. It's not that bad, right?

Besides, every guy is trying to flirt with you. That's how dudes are! He of all people should know...

But let's not dig into that too much. Besides, you shouldn't be giving these men any attention because that only gets their hopes up. 'Friendzone' is a place he's more than familiar with himself, so let's not pretend that any of those little charmers are actually trying to be your 'friends'. And, uh, do you see him having any female friends? No? That's for a reason, Liebe <3 (um, yeah we have a theory what the real reason is König)

But to be honest, König doesn't even see other women when he started dating you. He's becoming almost impolite, muttering "Ja, ja," to some girl at the mess when she's only trying to wipe the table. He's too busy stalking if you're online because why haven't you responded to his message? :( He sent it like five minutes ago.

Sees you give your female friend a kiss on the cheek, she tries to do the same, you somehow end up colliding so that you nearly peck each other on the mouth and start to giggle because of that. His heart just warms from seeing how sweet you two are... He even lets out a little heh, heh when he sees the friend smack you on the butt in the kitchen, leaving a floury handprint all over your ass. You two look so adorable when trying to make sourdough bread together. Doesn't the world just become thousand times better place with women in it?

#answered #jealous könig #tw: manipulation #can I just use 'könig' as the regular trigger warning #tw: könig #:D

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radio-writes · 2 months

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Love is Whatever You Can Still Betray

Synopsis: You recall a time when Alastor still saw you as friend, as an equal. You wonder: was any part of it even real?

Warnings: manipulation, mentions of drugs, violence and blood, physical harm to reader, power imbalance.

Tags: Relationship can be read in any way; Alastor x Reader; GN Reader

MDNI

At the back of your mind you vaguely remember a time when Husk had warned you.

"He's a sweet talker when he needs to be. You'd be better off not trusting a bastard like him."

You think that's what the drunk cat had said. You're sure it was somewhere along those lines, at least. It was a fair bit of time ago.

However, you do remember—painfully clearly—that you had laughed him off. You found the mere idea of Alastor betraying your trust ridiculous.

The Radio Demon would never dare cross you. You were a powerful overlord; one that practically held the whole ring in the palm of their hands. And, more importantly, you were friends; one of the very few that either of you even had.

Surely even someone like Alastor would think twice about stabbing a beloved friend in the back, right?

You almost wanted to shoot yourself realizing how naive you've been.

Now, having been a brilliant chemist during your life on earth, it wasn't really much of a shock that you turned to drug production when you got to Hell. You had to make a living somehow, right?

Besides, with the quality of the drugs you made, it only took you a few months to have Pride Ring's whole drug operations under your thumb.

But you were still so careful. You made sure to never deal with your clients or your distributers or your cartels directly. And on the rare times where you had to, you made sure to keep yourself as hidden as possible.

Very few people actually knew who this new Drug Demon was, and that's exactly how you wanted it be. You were smart, brilliant, a genius—if you do say so yourself; but what you weren't was strong.

Drug business in Hell was undoubtedly—and quite often literally—cutthroat. You wouldn't stand a chance if the enemies you made came after you, and you knew that. You'd probably have better chances of survival standing butt naked in the middle of the streets on extermination day.

So it made sense that the few friends you held dear were the only ones you trusted with your secret—with your life.

Alastor was...not really meant to be one of those friends.

Sure, he was the very first soul you met down here in Hell. You also both shared a love for soft jazz and easy nights and dancing your worries away. His dry comedic remarks and tendency to gossip made sure any time spent with him was entertaining enough to make you forget where you were, at least temporarily.

But still, you were cautious enough not to spill your darkest secrets to every charming young demon to slide to your side of the bar. Specially not to one that's been eager to steal your soul since the start.

Alastor was a friend, sure. But you weren't blind to all the blood he spilled, and much less so to just how much joy the Radio Demon got from it all. You hadn't failed to notice his grin stretching just a tad bit too wide, his eyes shining with glee with every limb he pulled from his victim's body.

Often times you found it hard to connect your silly little friend, wagging his finger to the tune of the live music, with the demonic horror you've witnessed happily feast on the corpses of his unfortunate prey.

Of course, that eventually started to change.

You think, it all started on your One Year Anniversary in Hell. It's been decades since you've chained yourself to your current predicament, but the bitterness of that night was still so hard to swallow.

"Hardly anything to talk home about. Simply bumping gums with an old butter and egg man. But Oh! The drama when his children came in. Ha!" Alastor had been recalling some story that night. You barely understood a word of it, if you were being honest. Alastor had the tendency to use old timey phrases when drunk—whether as a genuine habit or to mess with you, you were unsure.

"Didn't take you to be type to cozy up to the rich folk." You had jested, sliding a shot glass over to your companion.

Alastor had caught it, downed its contents in one go, and smiled at you. "And I didn't take you to be such a light weight, old friend." Alastor mocked you.

You laughed it off, accepting and drinking the shot he then slid to you.

Your eyes glanced across the bar in front of you, several empty bottles of alcohol scattered about already. How much time had the two of you spent there? You were unsure. Clearly it was at least a few hours past closing time; but it's not like the cowering demon behind the bar had the guts to kick the Radio Demon out.

"I'm not the one swaying in my seat with every breeze, old friend." You bit back.

"Ha! You must be absolutely stewed, dear. You're seeing things now!" He had slung a lanky arm over your shoulder, yanking you snugly to his side.

For a moment, the room spun; taking a whole second before steadying again.

Sure, there had been a slight slur in Alastor's words underneath all the radio static, but the demon wasn't far off with his observation still. You admittedly did feel a bit tipsy.

You had placed a hand on Alastor's chest, pushing yourself away from him, laughing all the while. "Watch the hair! You wouldn't want to piss me off now."

"Anger a sweet thing like you? Come now, you couldn't hurt a bee if it stung you in the eye," Alastor ruffled the hair on the top of your head as if to prove his point.

"Hey!— Fuck," You swore under your breath as you moved off your seat far too quickly.

Alastor materialized behind you, easily catching you by your elbows.

"Steady now, dear! Seems you're a lot further gone than I expected you to be," He laughed.

You twisted around in his grip and poked his chest rather sluggishly. "I'd have you know I'm not the same weak soul you met a year ago,"

You should have stopped. It was only ever meant to be a joke.

Your body should have just blacked out.

"I happen to run all of Pride Ring. I can get your Great Depression ass hunted down for messing my hair up," You boasted.

Alastor didn't seem to take your words for anything more than drunk ramblings as he helped you up to your own feet. "Is that what they call my time? I happen to have found the whole stock market crash hilarious, not at all depressing." He mused, he seemed to have been ignoring your ramblings.

"I'm serious, you know!" You puffed up your chest proudly, wanting to be taken seriously, looking him straight in the eye.

"I am the great scary Drug Demon after all."

You heard a record scratch.

Oh you were far beyond just tipsy.

You couldn't quite remember much else from that night. At least not after black tentacles swiftly protruded from Alastor's back, spearing right through the poor cowering bartender's chest.

He said something too. Something about how your secret would be absolutely safe with him.

It took you a long time to realize why he had sounded so odd to you in that very moment. But eventually, as the times flew by, you realized it was because he had spoken straight—not a trace of slurring tainted his tone. But that was a realization that came far too late of course.

You had been worried, absolutely scared shitless when you had sobered up. You spilled your biggest secret to someone so infamous. Someone so happy to hog the spotlight for all of eternity. You felt as if you might as well have broadcasted your identity on live TV for all the good it'll do you now.

But the Radio Demon had proved himself to be quite the trustworthy confidant.

Surprisingly true to his word, Alastor had never let a word of your secret slip from his lips. Never once even hinted at it to anyone, not even in jest.

Instead, what he did do was help you in secret. He had fed you information on the ins and outs on different turfs on the Pentagram; down to the smallest of details. Who was itching for a fix, who would have given up anything for their next high, what down on their luck sinner was desperate enough for any means of escape.

The promise of new information to help your business had made all your occasional catch-ups and night outs with Alastor all the more enticing for you.

Not only would you be out and about with a dear friend, having fun, dancing, and drinking, but you'd also get a chance to grow your influence even more.

And hell be damned if that hadn't gotten your greed to grow.

It wasn't long until you trusted Alastor enough for the flow of information to turn into a two-way street.

When he had given you intel, you had thrown what you knew back at him. Desperate sinners, gangs, cults, that you cater to that could really use a trusty deal to get out of rough spots.

You had also found that Alastor, being the schemer that he was, made quite a good soundboard to bounce ideas on. He'd hear your plans out, help you hammer out the kinks before putting them into action.

He had been there to help you out of tight spots.

He had been there to expanded your influence.

He had even been there to take care of any dumbass that dared to try to rival your business.

But there had always been one nagging question just simply gnawing at the back of your mind.

"Your soul? What in Hell would I want with that?" Alastor laughed when you asked if you needed to sell him your soul in exchange for all this help.

"No, my dear. I simply want you to keep me company! It's so hard to find such a like-minded soul in this dreadful cesspool." He explained, taking your arm to loop around his as he had lead you to take a walk with him.

You were his friend he had said. And after all he's helped you with—after all the years spent drinking, gossiping, dancing, and scheming—you believed him.

So you didn't question it.

You didn't question it when one night people broke into your home. They had yelled for the Drug Demon. They yelled for you.

You simply had to run. Break through your window, caution thrown into the wind, and run.

You had no choice but to flee with no plan in mind, nothing in hand. Run with nothing but the clothes on your back.

You didn't question it when heads had turned to watch you as your ran through the streets. Hell's nightlife well and alive, but did nothing to help your pathetic self.

The whispers felt like screams in your ears.

"The Drug Demon."

"That's them isn't it?"

The Drug Demon. The Drug Demon. The Drug Demon.

Everyone in the Pride Ring knew who you were.

You didn't question it when you had been cornered in an alley, a large hand squeezing your throat. Your body ached everywhere.

How many times had they bashed your head against the concrete? How many times had they punched you in the gut? How many times had they kicked your ribs in as you laid whimpering on the ground?

You were in far too much pain to have kept count.

You didn't question it—you should have questioned it—when Alastor showed up. Skewering the sinner just as they held a knife to your throat.

And stupidly, you still didn't question it when he made you that offer.

"You need to be much more careful than that, old pal." His gentle hand had patted dust off your shoulders. "You seem to be Hell's most wanted at the moment."

Your eyes had been wide as your body seemed to have moved by itself. Your arms wrapped around the Radio Demon in relief. "Alastor, thank fuck! I thought I was dead!"

You had felt his chest vibrate against your body as he laughed "My dear, you already are dead!" He joked, pulling your arms off him and stepping back. He had studied your shaking form, his grin stretched just the slightest bit more. "But I do say, you were lucky I was passing by just now. Can't say I can protect you all the time though."

Your throat had felt dry. You knew he was right. Had your good friend not been around, you were sure you'd have died right then.

Now that your secret was out, you needed Alastor. You needed his protection.

"Can't I just stay with you? At least for a little bit." You had said—pleaded, your voice still unsteady from the fear that ran through your body.

"Hmm?" Alastor's head tilted. He leaned his body on his cane in front of him. "Why of course you can! Although I don't quite see how that'll help much." He grinned.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, my dear, you've made quite a lot of enemies in the past few decades, haven't you? Torn apart many families and damned these poor souls further with all those recreational drugs of yours." In your distress, you had failed to catch the sheer glee in his tone.

Alastor melted into a pool of shadows, before he reappeared right behind you, his hands at your shoulders. You had jumped in his hold but it didn't seem to bother the demon.

"Sure you can stay with me for a while, but what after?" His tone still as cheery as ever. "And what about when I just have to leave you? You can't expect me to be at your beck and call for every second, after all. I'm your dear friend, not a pet."

"Please, Al." You begged, turning around to face him. You weren't sure what you were even asking for. You weren't sure what you wanted him to even do.

All you knew is that you were scared. You were scared because for how smart you were, you were sure there was no way you'd survive a night on your own now.

"Of course, there is something we could do to ensure you stay safe." Alastor had smiled at you, circling you like a vulture; elated that it was now the perfect time to swoop in on a long awaited meal.

"What?" You said, desperation clear in your voice.

"We could make a deal." He grinned.

You should have ran.

"A deal?" You asked, for all the fear you had, part of you was still wary.

"A deal." He confirmed. "If I owned your soul I could summon you whenever I want to. Should you fall into harm's way while I'm not around, I'd be able to pull you out and back to my side with a snap of my fingers."

You'd have been better off facing all the enemies you made. You should have ran.

"I can make sure you're safe and sound; untouched by all these ruffians after you. And it's not like you'll be selling your soul to a stranger now. Haven't I proven myself to be such a caring friend all these years?" His sickly sweet voice, and that overwhelming radio static filled your ears.

He had stopped in front of you, bent down to your height when he extended a hand your way. "So what do you say, darling? Do we have a deal?"

You should have known the worst creature stood in front of you. You'd have been better off facing all the enemies you made. You should have ran.

You bit your lip, eyes glanced away from Alastor in uncertainty. Surely, there must be other ways. If you could just have one night to think it through—

The sharp pain that had come from your back almost blinded you.

"I found them! They're over here, fellas!" You had heard someone shout from behind you, at the opening of the alley.

Your arm reached behind you, feeling something sharp lodged into the back of your shoulder. Your hand quickly dampened by your own blood.

"Fuck. Fine, yes, it's a deal." You had hissed through your teeth before you could think. Your hand reaching out to clasp your friend's outstretched palm.

A bright green light cut through the night's darkness, sealing your fate into Radio Demon's hands.

"Lovely." He drawled out, pulling you behind him as a flood of sinners made their way towards the pair of you.

"Pleasure doing business with you, boys, but I'm afraid I have no use for you anymore." Alastor had greeted the crowd.

"Who's this loser?"

"What the fuck is this bitch talking about?"

"Shut up and hand us that trash!"

You heard many replies to Alastor's words before the screaming started. Shadows ripped through the sinners as essily as if they were simply wet piles of tissue paper.

And then your blood ran cold. No, not because of the sound of flesh tearing from bone.

But because you were sure you had heard one of them say: "Weren't he the one that broadcasted Drug Bitch's name anyway?"

Surely—surely—you had heard wrong, right?

"Why, of course, I did!" Alastor had cheerily answered you. "Got a good deal from it too. Couple of Overlords happily forked their souls over just to know your name!"

It had been a couple of weeks after the deal when you finally worked up the courage to ask.

It hadn't been the answer you were hoping for. You had spent all this time convincing yourself that Alastor would have never done such a thing. That he was your beloved friend—your trusted friend. That he'd never have put you in harms way just to get a couple more souls under his belt.

The tray you had held bent with the grip you had on it. "You sold me out?" You wished you could bash the tray over his stupid shit-eating grin.

"Hello? Yes, that's what I just said. Did you not hear me, pet?" He finally glanced up from the paper he was reading to meet your glare.

"Oh don't look at me like that," He said folding the newspaper and setting it aside. "You're no patsy, surely you saw it coming."

"We were friends, Alastor!" Your voice had risen in volume.

A heavy, glowing collar materialized around your neck before you knew what was happening.

With a harsh tug you had stumbled, barely catching yourself on the armrests of Alastor's chair when he yanked you down to where he sat.

His free hand had reached up, anchoring itself heavily on your shoulder.

"Yes we were!" His voice was cheery, but there was an edge to his grin now. "That made the betraying part all the more entertaining, if you ask me."

"You piece of shi—" Your voice caught in your throat, the collar shrinking around your neck.

"I don't quite appreciate that kind of disrespectful language, darling. Specially, not from my pets." His pupils had turned to radio dials as you fought hard against his pulling just to remain upright.

The rush of anger in your veins froze as you met his eyes. You had felt your blood turn to ice in that very instant.

You've been with this man for so long.

You've seen him skewer crowds of sinners without batting an eye. You've seen him swallow limbs whole with a smile.

You've seen him happily throw friends to their deaths for...entertainment? Was that what he said?

His grip on your shoulder had tightened. Claws dug into your flesh and ripped your recent wound wide open.

Your poor little broken, indignant, heart could wait.

With the flash of pain stinging up your arm, you knew that every second that passed without a reply from your lips was a step closer to death's door again.

So you willed yourself to speak, despite the collar barely allowing enough air to reach your lungs. You managed to struggle out a weary "Understood."

And in an instant, the chains were gone, Alastor was back leaning against his chair. Newspaper back in hands as he idly read the print.

You had clutched at your neck, greedily sucked in air as you stumbled backwards.

"I like my breakfast on the raw side, by the way. And no sugar in the coffee next time; I do have a distaste for sweet things," He said dismissively.

Normally, you'd have cussed at him. Flipped him off and walked away. But there had been no fight left in you then. Your world was reeling from the revelation, from the fact that your friend throughout all these years, didn't even feel the slightest bit of remorse for betraying you.

That he'd happily dispose of you himself for something as simple as disrespectful language.

You had meekly nodded, and hurried to leave the room.

Now you stood, listening to the princess of Hell herself rambling on about how much of a big help Alastor was to the hotel she made. How he's been so supportive.

How he's been such a good friend.

You just couldn't stop yourself.

"You know, your highness, Alastor's a sweet talker when he needs to be. You'd be better off not trusting a bastard like him."

She laughed you off. To her, the idea of Alastor betraying her trust was just absolutely ridiculous.

Surely he'd never betray a beloved friend, right?

#tw: physical harm to reader #tw: manipulation #tw: mentions of drugs #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x gn!reader #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #Vien Writes #Not me studying 1930s slang for a few lines of dialogue

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